


The Rose

by ValoisFulcanelli



Series: The Rose [1]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:53:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9563936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValoisFulcanelli/pseuds/ValoisFulcanelli
Summary: Seventy-five years is a long time for a vampire to be away from his sire, but when Elliott returns to The Rose nightclub with his new pet in tow he finds that all is not as harmonious in the vipers’ nest as it was when he left.For a visual reference of the characters,see here.





	1. Showtime

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going _waaaaay_ AU with these two, so don't expect canon dismal!Sebastian and flowery-poetic!Elliott from the game. For a visual reference of the characters, [see here](http://valoisfulcanelli.tumblr.com/post/156761885079/the-rose-a-stardew-valley-elliottsebastian-au).

"A nightclub? Didn't peg you for the dancin' and drinkin' all night sort."

The teasing words--accompanied by a gentle body check as they walked across the street-lit parking lot toward a low grey brick building--came from the vicinity of Elliott's left shoulder, and he glanced down as Sebastian nudged him a second time. That perfect little impish grin flashed back up at him as his lips quirked in a fond smile.

"Then you had me pegged correctly," he replied. "I am indeed not the dancing and drinking all night sort. However, you could say that I had my moments in my youth."

Sebastian's arm snuck around Elliott's waist. "Did they even have nightclubs back then?"

"Impertinence!"

"My middle name," Sebastian said smugly as Elliott slung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. "Looks kinda popular, anyway," he added. "It's only just after half-eight and there's already a line to get in."

"Well, it's the premier vampire club in the city," Elliott mused. " _The_ place to be seen, if you will. And that goes for prey as well as vampires. It isn't publicised, for obvious reasons, but there is quite the underground scene of mortals that visit The Rose for their kicks. The higher up the tree they can get to sup from them, the greater their bragging rights."

"Who's the highest they can get?"

"Ah, now that would be the one they will never get. The one we call the Eigne. The eldest. He is the leader of our coven, although he prefers not to call it that."

"What does he call it, then?"

Elliott smiled again, distracted this time. "Questions, questions," he murmured as they neared the building. He nodded to the two pale, slender men in black suits on the door, and--after a moment--one of them broke into a broad smile that revealed two perfect fangs.

"Elliott! Good to see you back again. Go right on in. He'll be so pleased to see you."

"I hope so," Elliott muttered, leading Sebastian into the club. "It's been a while, and we didn't exactly part on the best of terms."

***

The inside of any nightclub is a slightly strange place to be outside of its opening hours. Once the lights go down and the doors are open, the place comes alive, but before that time it bears witness to an unsettling silence. The subtle sounds of glasses being shelved, optics being cleaned, and fridges being stocked with bottles vie with the brighter daytime lighting for the honour of bringing a vague sense of unease to any visitor.

Sebastian huddled a little closer to Elliott's side as they walked into the main club area. This close to opening, the club's lights were dim and the staff were moving around, getting ready for the influx of patrons.

"Either my eyes deceive me in my dotage, or a beautiful mirage has just walked in," a male voice called from across the dance floor.

"Who's that?" Sebastian whispered, feeling Elliott's arm tighten around his shoulders almost imperceptibly.

"The Eigne," Elliott replied softly, as Sebastian squinted against the dance floor lights, which had just been switched on and flashed distracting red beams around the club.

"A mirage, perhaps," Elliott called back, "but none more beautiful than that which stands before me. Eigne, am I welcome?"

"Always," came the reply. "Come up here, darling, and bring your companion with you."

Elliott lowered his voice, murmuring in Sebastian's ear: "Dear heart, I ask very little of you in our relationship, but I demand respect for him from you now. Is that clear?"

Sebastian nodded. "Got it."

They crossed the dance floor, Sebastian sticking very close to Elliott's side, and very grateful for the possessive arm that Elliott had around him. Up ahead, lounging in a chair that looked for all the world like a very comfortable throne, sat a young man with skin so pale it was almost white. By contrast, his long hair was a vivid, shocking scarlet red against the elegant black lapel of his suit. His eyes, to Sebastian's utter startlement, were also red: a deep, rich ruby.

"Elliott, my dear," the man murmured, and though the words were low they carried across the space between them. "It's inexpressibly good to see you again."

"You too, Valois," Elliott said softly, bowing his head. "I know, I've been away for a long time."

"Too long, my boy. Has the world treated you well?"

"Indeed it has."

Valois's gaze suddenly fixed on Sebastian, looking him up and down with clear curiosity.

"And who is this?"

"This is Sebastian," Elliott said, his arm still firm around Sebastian's shoulders. "My pet," he clarified.

"Ah."

There was a wealth of meaning in that small word. Sebastian could sense it, but not understand it. Instead of worrying about it, he nodded his head respectfully, as Elliott had done, hoping that would be okay.

Apparently, it was. Valois's lips curved in a smile. "You always did have exquisite taste, Elliott," he murmured. "Come. Sit beside me. We have much to catch up on, including how you met this lovely creature."

***

Sebastian felt a little awkward as Elliott sat in the chair to Valois's left. Where should he sit? He could feel Valois's keen gaze watching him closely, and the uneasy sensation of being tested slowly bloomed in his gut. Nothing was forthcoming from Elliott, no guidance or anything, and for a brief moment Sebastian floundered.

"Come here." Valois's soft voice broke through his panic, and he turned to see the Eigne beckoning him with one finger.

Sebastian glanced at Elliott, who nodded.

"Go on."

Well, shit. Okay then...

He approached Valois, coming to an awkward halt in front of the throne. Valois was gazing thoughtfully up at him, examining him with an unsettling regard. And now, closer than before, Sebastian could see the subtle weight of age descending on youth in Valois's face. It was a face that had seen centuries and horrors, but it retained an innate mortal beauty from god knows how long ago.

Valois held out his left hand, one elegant eyebrow quirked in a silent challenge.

Sebastian shifted from one foot to the other, then warily held out his own hand, letting it rest in Valois's palm. He was accustomed to the cool sensation of a vampire's skin by now, but he was surprised to feel that Valois's hand was quite warm. Not human-warm, but close enough to it that he could pass for human, were it not for his freakish eyes and hair.

"What a lovely thing you are," Valois murmured, stroking the pad of his thumb along the back of Sebastian's hand. "Tell me, darling: where did you meet Elliott?"

"In a bar in my hometown." The words left Sebastian's lips without any forethought, as though they were being pulled from him. He shot Elliott a nervous look, but Elliott's expression was inscrutable.

"And where is that hometown, hm?"

"Pelican Town. It's a tiny place near the Gem Sea. Arse-end of nowhere, really," Sebastian managed.

Valois smiled. "You must have been very glad to leave it, then. What did you do there? I take it that you had a job?"

This was more comfortable ground, and Sebastian relaxed a little. "I'm a freelance computer programmer. I was working on a game when I met Elliott."

"Intriguing. And what was he doing?"

"... writing?"

Valois finally broke eye contact, looking down at Sebastian's hand and his own thumb as it caressed the soft, pale skin. "Ah, yes," he murmured. "That sounds like my boy all right. I used to think a pen was an extension of his right hand, you know. Always scribbling in notebooks, day and night."

Sebastian wasn't sure he liked this conversation. It felt too much like a string of subtle digs at Elliott, and he began to withdraw his hand from Valois's grasp.

But he couldn't. Without warning, Valois's grip had become vice-tight, and only now did Sebastian notice the elaborate silver ring that adorned his thumb. Resting between knuckle and nail, it branched out into a long, sharp point that went beyond Valois's fingernail and was now pressing into Sebastian's flesh.

He bit his lip. Oddly, the pressure didn't hurt, but any second now Valois was going to draw blood. And Sebastian felt pretty fucking certain this was the last place he wanted to be bleeding.

The bright sound of a ringing bell broke the moment, and Valois abruptly released Sebastian's hand. At once, the club's lights dimmed and music began pounding out from the speakers.

Valois smirked and gestured for Sebastian to return to Elliott.

"Showtime," he said, as Elliott reached out to pull Sebastian onto his lap.


	2. Performance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: The initial chapters will be short while I find my feet with this story. Please bear with me, those of you who are used to longer chapters from other authors :)

The club slowly filled with people, most of them heading to the bar at first, to get a few drinks down their necks before they relaxed in for the night. One or two hardy souls made straight for the dance floor, dropping bags and jackets on a couple of bar stools just outside the roped-off area.

Sebastian watched idly from his perch on Elliott's lap, feeling a little self-conscious about being so publicly petted. His back was to Valois, which made him by turns both relieved and worried. Valois felt like the kind of person that you didn't want to let out of your sight, lest he do something unexpected, and Sebastian's back felt like it was crawling with curiosity and fear almost constantly. 

Oh well. Elliott would take care of things. He always did. Right now, his fingers were absently sifting through Sebastian's hair, and if it weren't for the loud music Sebastian might well have dozed off as he watched more bodies head for the dance floor.

"They're performing," Elliott murmured in his ear.

"Hm?" Sebastian glanced up at him. "Performing what?"

Elliott smiled. "Not 'what'. Who. Or rather, for whom. Haven't you noticed where they're looking?"

Sebastian watched for a few minutes, slowly realising that the gyrating on the dance floor was all aimed at the area where he, Elliott, and Valois were sitting. That was hardly surprising, since Valois all but held court up here on this fancy dais that overlooked the club. Tall candelabrum stood guard on either side of his throne, and the walls behind him were draped with blood red velvet. It was all so... _theatrical_ , but at the same time it looked pretty damn impressive.

"They're performing for us?"

"For Valois. And also for me, but they can see that I already have a beautiful mortal for tonight, so it's mostly for him."

Sebastian shivered, not liking the inference he heard there. "Not just for tonight, I hope."

Elliott kissed his temple. "Of course not. However, they do not know that. All they see are two powerful vampires sitting up here, and they want to be the ones we sup from tonight."

"I thought you said they could never get _him_ to drink from them?" Sebastian began, but the words died in his throat as--out of nowhere--someone just appeared in front of him. Someone tall, wraith-thin, and dressed in a black velvet waistcoat and pants with a vivid purple cravat. Those, together with the glowing, predatory grey eyes and glossy black hair made Sebastian think of a very fancy raven looking for a snack.

"Elliott, you old rogue! Where the hell have you been for the past million years?!"

"Travelling the world, of course." Elliott looked up at the newcomer with a faint smile, but Sebastian had known Elliott for long enough to recognise when a smile didn't reach his eyes, and what that signified. "Nice to see you still have a penchant for slight exaggeration, Aleister."

"Pfft!" A pale hand clapped Elliott on the shoulder, long pointed nails digging into the fabric of his suit jacket as Aleister looked down at Sebastian. "Anyway, it's good to see you again. New toy?"

"No. Sebastian has been my pet for several years now. So he's not new and he's certainly not a toy."

"Well damn." Aleister bent down and looked closely at Sebastian's face. Mutely, Sebastian stared back up at him, as one cool finger raised his chin. "He's such a pretty thing. Mean of you not to share him, really."

"I'm a selfish and jealous creature when it comes to this one," Elliott said, so softly that Sebastian almost didn't hear him. "Very very jealous. Understood?"

Aleister's gaze flicked up to Elliott's face and he nodded. "Understood." Then, after a moment, he broke into a wicked grin. "But let me know if you ever change your mind, eh?"

He vanished again just as suddenly as he'd appeared. Bewildered, Sebastian looked around, seeing him now sitting in the chair on Valois's other side.

"It appears that the mortals aren't the only ones trying to impress tonight," Elliott whispered as he nuzzled Sebastian's ear. "I'm going to take a little sip, just to make a point, all right?"

"'kay," Sebastian whispered back, feeling those cool lips kissing down to his throat. He tilted his head back, to give Elliott better access, and his eyes fluttered shut as he felt the brief white-hot, sharp piercing sensation at his jugular before Elliott's lips sealed against his skin.

Oh! that slow drag and pull. It felt like nothing on earth, like Elliott was reaching down into Sebastian's veins, taking hold of his heart, and squeezing very gently. Sebastian loved it. Fucking loved it, and he vaguely heard himself utter an involuntary whimper as Elliott pulled away and licked gently over the wounds.

They'd drawn an audience, Sebastian noticed through the haze of intoxication that Elliott's bite always gave him. The crowd on the floor was watching, even as they danced. He could almost feel their jealousy spiking toward him as Elliott's hand tangled in his hair and pulled his head down to rest against his shoulder.

"That one was born to it," he heard Valois chuckle behind him. "Never seen a pet so blissed-out by so short a sip. Congratulations, darling. You appear to have found rather a special one."

"That I have," Elliott said, over the top of Sebastian's head. "And I will fight to the oblivion any other who tries to claim him."

Although the music kept going, Sebastian could have sworn that--in that moment--there blossomed a few seconds of pure silence, like time had stopped, or they had slipped into another dimension. It was the craziest feeling--like the world had held its breath--and just as he was wondering when it would end, Valois's voice broke into it:

"Your claim is noted."

The music burst back to full volume and Sebastian looked over his shoulder, wondering what the hell had just happened there. Valois nodded to him, and this time his smile seemed less predatory and more... well, a _bit_ more friendly.

And Aleister was nowhere to be seen.

***

The mood of the dance floor shifted after about an hour when neither of the two vampires on the dais showed interest in anything other than chatting with each other. The patrons turned their attention to simply having fun, and the atmosphere of the club loosened up. Even the DJ sensed it, upping the tempo of the music, and the bartenders picked up on it, pulling their flashier moves as cocktails flew off the menu.

Sebastian had turned around on Elliott's lap, because it felt rude to be sitting with his back to Valois for so long. Their conversation went on above his head--a low murmuration that he couldn't quite pick up on--for almost two hours without pause. He supposed they were catching up on each other's doings in the time Elliott had been away, and a couple of times he had to stifle a yawn, wondering if hitting the dance floor might wake him up and shake him out of the weird, still-unsettled feeling he had.

But then something happened to pull him out of his reverie and into the fright of his life. He realised that Elliott was shaking back the green silk cuff of his shirt, and holding out his hand to Valois.

"My dear boy." Valois looked infinitely pleased. "Are you sure?"

"It wouldn't be a homecoming otherwise," Elliott replied, his other arm tightening around Sebastian's waist, as if to make sure he didn't try to do anything.

Valois picked up something from the small table just to the side and slightly behind his throne. It was an exquisite crystal goblet that glittered in the flashing lights of the club

Sebastian frowned. What the hell?

Valois gently tapped the sharp point of his silver thumb ring against the side of the glass, making it chime with a beautiful clear note. He smiled, then--without any other announcement--he suddenly slashed the ring across the inside of Elliott's wrist.


	3. Gifts

"What the fuck are you DOING?!"

No matter how hard he tried, Sebastian couldn't worm his way free from Elliott's vice grip around his waist, but that didn't stop him from flailing ineffectually as Valois held the crystal goblet under the gash in Elliott's wrist. He wasn't sure what he could do to stop things - he knew how impossible it was to attempt battling the preternatural strength of a vampire - but he felt the need to do _something._

Valois's gaze flicked up to his face, and he smiled. "Protective. Good. That's a very good sign, darling."

"Stop it!" Sebastian whimpered, his eyes wide with fright as he watched the glass slowly fill with blood. For all that the wound was broad and deep, the slow realisation washed over him that Elliott wasn't exactly bleeding out all over the floor, and as Elliott's lips kissed his cheek, he calmed down just a little.

"It's not as if I'm going to die, my dear," Elliott murmured in his ear. "As you like to say in this modern age: been there, done that."

With the glass now filled to a little way below the brim, Sebastian watched as Valois took Elliott's wrist firmly in his hand and licked slowly and sensually along the wound, his gaze fixed on Sebastian's face, his eyes glinting with amusement.

Sebastian still hadn't figured out that whole licking thing. Whenever Elliott fed from him, he remembered feeling through the haze a slow lick over the puncture wounds. His skin was always completely unblemished, no matter how many holes Elliott put in it. He supposed vampires had healing spit, or something, because there was no other way of explaining how that gaping wound in Elliott's wrist had completely vanished by the time Valois had finished with it.

Valois sat back, raising the glass in a toast. "Cin-Cin," he murmured with a smile, before tilting it and drinking deep.

Sebastian shivered, nestling back down in Elliott's embrace and burying his face into the cool flesh - cooler than it was a few minutes ago - of Elliott's throat. He couldn't look, didn't want to see Valois gulping down Elliott's blood.

"It's not his," he heard Valois say, and that made him peek out from his hiding place, curiosity getting the better of him.

Valois had finished drinking, and was putting the glass back down on the table. As he turned back to look at Sebastian, he licked slowly along his upper lip, catching a stray smear of blood with his tongue.

"Thank you, darling," he murmured. "A precious gift indeed."

"Why are you thanking me?" Sebastian mumbled. "I didn't do anything."

Valois just smirked, glancing at Elliott. "You always did prefer them more on the innocent side, didn't you, my boy?"

Sebastian felt Elliott's hand in his hair - as soothing a presence as it always was - and he began to drowse a little as he heard, very softly, Elliott say above him, "He knows what he needs to, and no more."

***

Sebastian woke with a start, glancing around blearily. The club was still in full swing, and more people had joined them on the dais. He was nestled very comfortably against Elliott's body, draped over him like a warm and snuggly human blanket, and as he cast one eye about he noticed two people sitting in similar fashion to Valois's right, and - curiously - someone else sitting at Valois's feet.

"Our little sleepyhead returns from his dreams," he heard Valois murmur. "Allow me to make introductions. Sebastian, these are Arcturus and his pet, Elsanine. Good friends of ours, they are, and a credit to The Rose and its family."

Sebastian nodded to the two men sitting on Valois's right. Arcturus, he supposed, was the vampire: ashen of skin and silver-haired, dapper and handsome - though his skin clung almost skeletally to the bones of his face in a slightly unsettling, yet fascinating way - dressed in a long, formal frock coat with a white silk cravat and diamond pin, looking for all the world as if he'd stepped out of some Edwardian gothic horror novel.

And Elsanine - perched on Arcturus's lap and playing idly with his own long, white hair - was what Sebastian's mother would have called a flower child (and what Sebastian might, rather less poetically and definitely less charitably, call a hippy). He wore a loose tunic embroidered with silvery flowers, and pale grey skintight jeans that flared out below his knees. Just peeking out from the frayed hems of those jeans were bare toes tipped with a pearlescent polish that matched that on his fingers, and around his neck he wore an old, tarnished silver key knotted to a long black leather cord. He was, quite possibly, the most beautiful man Sebastian had ever seen, with tilted, sloe eyes and high cheekbones, like he was some kind of faery-made-mortal.

They nodded back to him, Arcturus formally and Elsanine with a bright, beautiful smile. They made an incongruous pair, but the possessive arm around Elsanine's waist spoke silently of a deep passion and closeness on a par with that which Elliott held for Sebastian.

"And this," Valois's voice broke into the silence, "is Gunther. My own beloved pet."

His hand rested in Gunther's auburn hair, tousling it fondly as Gunther butted his head gently against Valois's knee and laughed. Sebastian was surprised to see that Valois's pet was a slightly older guy, maybe in his forties? Elliott had told him that most vampires chose their pets for their youth and beauty, but Gunther looked more like a teacher or something. Sure, he was handsome, but Sebastian would hardly put him in the same league as the beautiful young pets he'd been told about.

"Hello," Gunther said softly. "Nice to meet you."

He seemed earnest enough, and was smartly and simply-dressed in a white shirt, black vest, and dark grey tweed pants. A pair of round spectacles perched atop his slightly-hooked nose, he had a neat chinstrap beard, and his hair - though long - was tied in a loose knot at the crown of his head, and yeah... he was definitely a teacher.

"An antiquarian, actually. A professor of archaeology," Valois chipped in, his smile now formal - colder, even - as he regarded Sebastian. "I value intelligent conversation over the perfection of youth."

Sebastian felt his skin crawl. Oh shit. So Valois was one of _those_ vampires? Elliott had warned him that some of his kind could dip into minds and pull out thoughts. He should have known the Eldest would be one of them! And here he'd been, judging the hell out of Valois's pet!

"Sorry," he whispered, ducking his head back down as Elliott's fingers once more dove into his hair with that soothing touch. As he began to drowse again, the last thing he was aware of was Valois waving a vague hand and saying, "No matter. Untrained and opinionated also has its own appeal."

Sebastian had no idea what that was all about, but oh... Elliott was so comfortable. Like the safety of your own bed when you come home from a long walk in the wind and rain, and you snuggle down and just lose yourself to... to...

"He's gone again," Elsanine chuckled, but Sebastian didn't even hear him.


	4. A Generation of Vipers

Tuning out the noise of the club for a few moments, Elliott nuzzled his face into Sebastian's hair, which was sticking up all over the place after his several naps. A smile twitched at the corners of Elliott's mouth as he caught a little huff of a sigh from his pet, and he continued carding his fingers gently through that inky hair, smoothing as much as he was soothing.

What a pretty little conundrum this boy was. Elliott was quite utterly devoted to him, and yet already Sebastian had managed to irritate Valois by means of some stray unwelcome thought. Elliott really should have warned him of the Eigne's gift, but he hadn't wanted Sebastian to be spooked, or for his behaviour to give away that he knew more than he should. There were some things that Valois liked to reveal himself, such as his ability to pick thoughts as easily as a thief picks pockets, and he would have looked unkindly on any warnings that Elliott may have dished out to his pet.

He sighed softly. Rules. So many damned rules, and almost all of them unspoken. A vampire coven was a place for tiptoes, its twisted and winding hierarchy paved with eggshells and brittle egos.

"It is not a coven."

He lifted his gaze, but not his face. Valois was watching him, a wry smile dancing about his lips.

"I'm sorry, darling. You _know_ I always pick up on that word," he said. "It is a nest, not a coven."

"A nest," Elliott murmured. "We are not birds, Eigne." 

"Of course not. We are vipers, and both snakes and birds create nests, my dear."

Gunther stirred at Valois's feet. He had barely moved since his initial greeting to Sebastian, but now he nuzzled his cheek against Valois's thigh and smiled up at him.

"'Is this the generation of love?'" he murmured. "'Hot blood, hot thoughts and hot deeds? Why, they are vipers. Is love a generation of vipers?'"

"Shakespeare, I'll warrant," Arcturus chipped in. "But I'm at a loss as to exactly which play."

Gunther looked back over his shoulder at him. "Troilus and Cressida, although Shakespeare pilfered part of that line directly from the Bible. The King James version, to be precise." He shrugged and laughed softly. "For all that he was a literary genius, he was also a thief of words."

"'Ye serpents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape the damnation of hell?'," Valois quoted. "Matthew 23:33, as I recall, and quite apt if you ask me."

At Elliott's solitary raised eyebrow, he smirked. "My dear, I was once alone for a very long time and with only one book to entertain me. You, of all people, should not be surprised that I am able to quote from that book."

"I am surprised only by _which_ book, not by your near-photographic memory." Elliott returned his attention to Sebastian once more, breathing in the warm and comforting mortal scent of him. He would need to feed soon, especially after his gift to Valois, but right now he could not bear to disturb his pet's sleep.

"You are very fond of him," Valois said softly. "I assume you have not yet overcome your aversion to the coffin and still hanker for sheets. Does he sleep with you? Warm your bed for you?"

Elliott's head snapped up, anger writ plain on his face as his polite mask slipped. "Does yours?" he shot back, his fingers tightening briefly in Sebastian's hair, making his pet shift and utter a soft wordless sound of complaint.

One lifted eyebrow was the only reply, and he sighed, slumping back into his chair again.

"My apologies," he said, stiffly. "I had quite forgotten your predilection for asking intimate questions in company."

Valois's hand drifted down to Gunther's hair. "Why don't you answer him, hm, my dear?"

Gunther ducked his head, his high cheekbones suddenly suffused with colour. "I share my master's casket," he said. "It's quite comfortable, actually."

"And well-ventilated, I hope!" Elsanine's bright laughter broke the moment. "You'd never catch me in one of those things, no matter how much I love Arcturus. Shut the lid down on me and I'll scream fit to burst your eardrum. He tried once, and I think I deafened him for a week!"

"That you did," Arcturus said drily. "I prefer making you scream for other reasons."

"Oh my god, shut up!" Elsanine suddenly hid his face against the back of the chair, his shoulders shaking with laughter as he thumped Arcturus's arm repeatedly.

Bemused, Elliott watched them, catching Valois's eyeroll out of the corner of his eye.

"By Lilith, I am surrounded by romantic fools!" Valois chuckled. "However, Elliott, my question was one of practicality and not merely calculated to embarrass you. I enquired whether you and Sebastian would wish for a private bedroom here at the club when day breaks, or if you intend to share one of our guest caskets. If, of course, you decide to overday here."

Elliott nodded. "If one is free, then we will gladly accept a bedroom."

"Take the one next to those two turtledoves." Valois nodded towards Arcturus and Elsanine, who were now sharing a blood kiss, Arcturus's fang gently grazing and scratching at Elsanine's lower lip as they embraced. Elsanine's body was pressed against him, his breathing quickened as Arcturus's tongue softly laved against the deep red beads that bloomed from his lip.

"That is," Valois added drily, "if you wish to risk being kept awake all morning."

Sebastian stirred in Elliott's lap once more, looking blearily up at him.

"God, I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I don't know why I'm so tired tonight. I was so looking forward to meeting your friends, and I've just slept through everything."

He scrubbed a hand through his hair, undoing all the work of Elliott's smoothing fingers, and looked around. His eyes widened as he saw Elsanine and Arcturus, making Elliott chuckle softly and nuzzle his ear.

"You see," he whispered. "We are not the only ones. And yes, you look that beautiful, that abandoned when we do that, too."

Oh, the heat that came to Sebastian's neck and face when those words reached him! It was intoxicating, and Elliott inhaled deeply, a low rumbling purr leaving his throat as he scented the hot blood so close beneath Sebastian's fragile skin.

"Eigne, if you will excuse us," he said, his lips moving against Sebastian's neck. He flicked his gaze across to Valois's face. "I would like a snack before bedtime," he finished, enjoying the smirk that he received from his sire in return.

"Rest well," Valois said, inclining his head. "You too, Sebastian."

Sebastian began to say something, but barely had he opened his mouth than the words ended in a squeak. Elliott had stood, just as easily as if he didn't have first a lapful and then an armful of his pet. Sebastian's arms clung around his neck, and the blessed boy actually giggled as Elliott managed a short bow to Valois before carrying him off the dais.

They drew curious and envious gazes: the tall vampire bearing a beautiful young mortal in his arms as he strode towards the wide stone arch that led to the club's private quarters.

Just beyond the arch stood Fuchsia, her namesake hair a beacon in the dim light of the lobby, clashing violently against the rich red wallcovering. She grinned at Elliott, sharp white fangs glinting as she eyed Sebastian.

"Good to see you back again, Elliott, and in such pretty company, too. Bedroom?"

"Please."

"I know you too well." She handed him a heavy iron key. "There you go. Have fun!"

***

"Does everyone think we're going to be doin' the nasty in here or something?" Sebastian's voice reached him a few minutes later as Elliott set him down outside a heavy wooden door. "I mean, not that I'd be complaining or anything, but are they always that open about it?"

Elliott inserted the key into the lock. "Welcome to my world," he said drily. "My coven-- My _nest_ ," he corrected himself, "likes to tease newcomers. And I, as a returnee after so long, am - I suppose - classed as a newcomer once more."

The key turned silently and Elliott pushed the door open.

"Oh wow..." Sebastian walked into the room first, his head tilting back as he looked up at the painted ceilings, then down at the dark wood parquet floor and its exquisite Aubusson rugs, then around at the polished mahogany-panelled walls and priceless paintings. "It's like a bloody palace!"

"Valois has impeccable taste," Elliott murmured, following Sebastian into the room and locking the door. He watched as Sebastian wandered around, touching the beautiful Louis XIV furniture, his fingertips tracing the gold marquetry of a delicate writing desk, then stroking down the heavy embroidered curtains that hung from the canopied bed.

Sebastian turned to stare at him, his jaw quite literally agape.

"This is nuts!" he whispered. "Are all the bedrooms like this?"

"Of course." Elliott put the key in the drawer of an exquisite little bedside table.

"No wonder you prefer a bed to a coffin." Sebastian suddenly giggled, pulling away from the bed and spinning around, wrapping his arms around himself as he laughed. "God, this is just... it's..."

Elliott smiled, watching him fondly. He'd taken his daylong rest in this room so many times that its beauty had become normality to him. But now, with Sebastian's wide eyes staring all around him, he found a new appreciation for it. The beauty that was now walking into his arms had reawakened the beauty around him.

"Thirsty?" Sebastian whispered, pressing a kiss to Elliott's chin.

"For you?" Elliott murmured. "Always."

Sebastian just grinned, hauling his smart black shirt clean off over his head without even bothering to unbutton it. He dropped it on the floor and nuzzled close against Elliott, tilting his head to one side.

"Of all the beauties in this room," Elliott whispered as he nuzzled that soft, tender skin, "the greatest stands before me."

Beneath his lips, Sebastian's pulse beat strong and fast. His skin - so pale, so fragile - yielded to Elliott's fangs like a flower to the sun, his soft sounds of bliss followed the heat of his blood into Elliott's body, and Elliott chased down trembling veins to Sebastian's very heart. Pulling and pulling until Sebastian whimpered: the signal that Elliott should stop.

Slowly, Elliott raised his head, kissing the bloodied wound softly before licking over it. Sebastian's head lolled back, his lips curved in a blissed-out smile, his eyes muzzy and unfocused.

"Well, you're gonna _have_ to carry me now," he whispered. "You're all that's holding me up after that. You took more than you usually do."

Elliott chuckled, pressing a fierce and possessive kiss to that precious mouth. "Luckily for you," he said, as he swept Sebastian up into his arms and carried him over to the bed, "the kitchens here serve amazing cooked breakfasts, to get your strength back up. Not that I've been able to enjoy one for centuries, but I certainly appreciate the scent of them."

"Oh man. Bacon and eggs and sausages." Sebastian mumbled, already drowsing as Elliott quickly stripped him of his remaining clothing and tucked him into bed. "Hash browns and baked beans, and hot buttered toast..."

Elliott's clothes soon joined Sebastian's on the nearby chair, and as he slipped beneath the covers, Sebastian instinctively turned towards him, snuggling close and wrapping around him.

"Mmm." Sebastian sighed. "Nice and warm again. G'night."

"Goodnight, my dear." Elliott curved a possessive arm around his pet's warm and beautiful body. "Sleep well, and dream of bacon and eggs and sausages."


	5. More Tea?

"Elliott?"

Sebastian gently shook Elliott's shoulder, but he knew it was almost impossible to awaken a vampire deep into his daysleep.

"Elliott, please! Please wake up!" His voice was more urgent now. "I need to pee and I don't know where the bathroom is!"

Wonder of wonders, Elliott shifted a little in the bed, and Sebastian instantly nuzzled against him, kissing his neck, his throat, his lips; anything to try and rouse him into something resembling wakefulness.

"Elliott, _pleeeeease!_ "

God, he was absolutely busting! His nudges became almost desperate, until - finally! - one green eye cracked open.

"What?" Elliott rumbled, clearly displeased about being disturbed.

"Bathroom?" Sebastian whispered. If he hadn't still been horizontal, he'd have been hopping up and down on one foot by now.

"By the bookcase." 

And Elliott was out for the count again. By the bookcase? What the fuck?

Sebastian looked wildly around the room. There was the bookcase, rising tall and elegant against the far wall: a floor-to-ceiling edifice fronted with glass and holding books that, were he not so bloody desperate, Sebastian might have slipped out of bed to have a look at. 

But where--? Oh! There was something affixed to the centre mahogany wall panel beside the bookcase. A handle! Sebastian rocketed out of bed, whimpering as he scuttled across the room and tried the handle. To his absolute relief, the panelling hid a door that opened onto an elegant, cream-tiled bathroom. 

Two minutes later, he sagged with relief as he pulled the chain. That had been... really fucking close. He should have asked earlier, but he'd not even given it a thought, what with Elliott behaving the way he had out in the club and then looking at him like _that_ when they'd arrived in the bedroom. Sebastian didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell when Elliott got that look on his face, and who thinks to ask about where you're going to take a piss in the morning when you're in the middle of a moment like that?!

He smiled as he washed his hands in the porcelain basin and looked around for a hand towel.

"Here."

He took the soft golden towel that was being held out to him. "Thanks."

Halfway through drying his hands, he froze. Then turned... and realised he could hear the sound of a shower running. It had been running the entire time he'd been in the bathroom; he just hadn't even noticed until now. The hand that had held out the towel was wet and attached to an equally-wet arm, which - in turn - was attached to a soaking-wet Elsanine, who stood in the shower grinning at him, hot water raining down onto his head.

"Guess you were pretty desperate, huh?"

Sebastian coloured up to his hairline, averting his gaze from the wholly naked and beautiful vision in front of him. "Um."

Elsanine laughed. "Oh god, don't be shy. You'll soon get over that if you're living here. Didn't Elliott tell you the bathrooms are shared? Two bedrooms, one bathroom. That's how it works in this place. You get used to walking in on other people taking a leak."

"Uh, no. He never mentioned it. I never had a chance to ask," Sebastian said lamely.

Elsanine gave him a knowing look. "Ah. I see." He turned off the shower and stepped out, grabbing a big fluffy bath towel from the heated rail. Slowly, he rubbed himself dry, completely uncaring of his audience. And Sebastian, in turn, found himself staring and being pretty shameless about it, too. Yes, he was head over heels in love with Elliott, but by god, Elsanine was beautiful, and Sebastian could appreciate beauty like that, couldn't he?

"Are you hungry?" Elsanine finally said, folding the towel and hanging it back over the rail. "I'm starving. The kitchens will start up soon, so I can show you where you can grab some food." He smiled at Sebastian, taking his hand and examining it. "You're pale as a ghost anyway, so it's hard to tell, but I guess Elliott took a lot last night. Your skin seems more translucent than it should be, and I can hardly make out your veins."

He pressed his thumbnail into the pad of Sebastian's finger until the skin turned white. It stayed white for much longer than usual when he took his thumb away.

"Yeah, your capillary refill is really slow. You need to get some food and drink inside you."

He turned Sebastian's hand over, examining the palm. "Ooh," he said, suddenly distracted. "That's an interesting lifeline you've got there. Look; it splits in two and kind of goes back on itself. I'd guess that's around your mid-twenties. About... twenty-four or something like that? Something big is going to happen to you then."

Sebastian peered down at his hand, frowning. "I'm twenty-four now," he muttered.

Elsanine let go of his hand, his smile a little less certain now. "Well," he said, rather too brightly. "Go and get dressed and I'll meet you back in here in... ten minutes, say? We can grab some breakfast together."

"Sure."

***

Sebastian wandered back into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. As he neared the elaborate dressing table, he flicked on the lamp and held his hand close to the light, staring down at it.

Elsanine was right. His lifeline headed to the centre of his palm and then stopped. Then, it re-started about an inch back in the other direction, and half an inch to the left. Like a small earthquake had shifted tectonic plates on his hand, or something. Funny, he'd never noticed that before.

He shrugged into his pants and socks, toed into his boots, and picked up his shirt from the floor. Eyeballing the massive creases in it, he grimaced and shouldered into it. He could really do with a shower himself, not to mention cleaning his teeth and all those other morning things, but his stomach was doing its best to eat his spine, so those things could wait until after he'd had breakfast. If he could even _find_ a toothbrush around here, that was.

Elsanine was waiting in the bathroom, an overlarge sweater draping his torso and coming halfway down his thighs, which were clad in the ever-present skintight faded jeans that flared out from his knees. He wasn't barefoot this time, having changed into a skimpy pair of thong sandals, but his smile was sunny as he took Sebastian's hand and led him out into the corridor.

"The cooks start up at seven each morning," he said, as he led Sebastian up a flight of stone steps. "They're hired workers from outside. Mortals. They come in, cook breakfast, leave it in heated storage, and go home again. As far as they're concerned, they're cooking for the day shift workers here. They don't know they're catering for vampires' pets."

His grin was bright as he opened the door that led out into the silent club.

"Wow, this looks different during the day," Sebastian murmured as they crossed the floor, Elsanine still holding his hand. With the ordinary lights on, the club looked surreal; a brightly-lit large room that was a little less well-kept than it appeared at night.

"Oh, all clubs look like this during the day. At night, you don't see the marks on the walls or the beer stains on the carpet." Elsanine laughed. "The cleaners do their best, but this place is old as shit, and Valois likes the original decor. He won't hear of it being re-done, no matter how many times people suggest it."

He shoved open a door at the back of the club, pulling Sebastian through a poky little corridor that ended in yet another door. Behind that one was a small staff room with a couple of dining tables, a faded old leather couch that had seen too many backsides and was in dire need of reupholstering, a TV attached to the wall, a couple of vending machines, and - most importantly - a heated trolley from which the unmistakable scents of a cooked breakfast were emanating.

Elsanine pushed back the metal cover of the trolley and beamed. "Oh man, fried eggs this morning, not scrambled. Awesome!"

He picked up a warmed plate from a shelf under the trolley's heater and started piling food onto it. Two fried eggs, three sausages, two pieces of bacon, a couple of hash browns, and a big dollop of baked beans. Sebastian stared as the heap of food on the plate grew higher. He'd never have guessed that this frail, pretty creature ate like a fucking horse!

"Tuck in," Elsanine mumbled around a mouthful of the hash brown that he'd already taken a bite of. "It's only you, me, and Gunther today, and he won't be down for a bit."

To tell truth, Sebastian was just as hungry as Elsanine seemed to be, so he shrugged and piled up his own plate, too. Taking it over to where Elsanine sat at one of the tables, he sat down and dug in, not raising his head for a good few minutes, until his initial hunger had at least been sated.

"Gunther's breakfast will be cold if he doesn't get here soon," he said, biting into a piece of toast. 

"Either that, or we'll eat it all." Elsanine grinned at him, going back for a couple more sausages. "Man, I'm always starving in the morning. 'Turu really takes it out of me."

 _Turu?_ Sebastian frowned. _Oh, that must be his nickname for Arcturus._

"Yeah, I'm pretty hungry myself," Sebastian admitted. "Elliott... took more than he usually does last night."

He felt a bit weird admitting that. It wasn't something he'd ever had a chance to talk to anyone about before now, and he watched as Elsanine got to his feet, making his way over to a second trolley.

"You want tea or coffee?" Elsanine asked, bending down to peer at the two urns. "Coffee's the standard blend, but it looks like the tea's Darjeeling today."

"Tea would be great, thanks."

"Sugar?"

Sebastian smiled. "Nah. Just as it comes."

A large mug of tea was handed to him, and Elsanine poured himself one before sitting back down again. Raising his own mug, he said, "This will always be on the go - plenty of hot tea and coffee around here - and I recommend you take advantage of it. Has Elliott spoken to you about helping him out by helping yourself?"

"Uh... no? What d'you mean by that?"

"First thing 'Turu taught me," Elsanine sat back in his chair. "The human body can only afford to lose about 750 millilitres of blood before it begins to experience debilitating effects. Ever noticed how your heart starts beating a little faster when Elliott's taken more than usual?"

"Yeah, I have, actually." Sebastian sipped his tea. "I sometimes feel a bit cold and restless, too."

"Classic early symptoms of hypovolemic shock." Elsanine nodded. "He'll never take more than he should, unless he's _very_ thirsty and the lust comes over him. Be careful if you ever see his eyes turn black at the edges, by the way. If that happens, you get the hell out of his line of sight, and let some other poor bastard take him on."

Sebastian shuddered. Elliott had never treated him as anything other than a precious gift, but he was no fool. He knew what Elliott was. He knew Elliott had killed people in the past.

"Yeah, I know." Elsanine sighed. "It's easy to fall in love with them, isn't it? And your brain kinda shuts up and doesn't remind you what you really know about them." He looked around, heaved another sigh, then continued. "Anyway, you need to help yourself out by keeping hydrated. That's the one thing you gotta remember to do, and that's why the tea and coffee is always available. There's plenty of juice in the fridge, too. Hydration is key to replacing blood, y'see. You can replace what you lost within twenty-four hours, if you keep hydrated, and that means he can sip from you more often. Like I said: helping them by helping yourself."

At that moment, the door opened and Gunther shuffled in, barefoot and wrapped in a huge white fluffy bathrobe, yawning and scrubbing a hand through his hair. Sebastian's eyes were immediately drawn to the thick black leather collar buckled around his neck.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Elsanine piped up. "We left you one egg and half a sausage."

"You'd better not have eaten it all," Gunther mumbled, smiling. "Hi, Sebastian. Sleep well?"

Sebastian watched as Gunther opened the heated trolley and picked up a plate. "Like the proverbial log, thanks. You?"

"Pretty good, yeah. Valois isn't sleeping today, so I took the bed instead of sharing his casket. I never sleep as well when I'm alone as I do when I'm with him."

He put down his loaded plate on the table and went back to get a large mug of coffee. As soon as his back was turned, Sebastian looked at Elsanine, raising one eyebrow and making circular motions with one finger at the front of his neck.

"Sebastian's curious about your collar," Elsanine piped up, to Sebastian's utter horror. Bloody hell, the little gobshite!

"Oh?" Gunther looked up from filling the coffee mug. He grinned. "I guess because he's never seen anyone wearing one in earnest before now, as opposed to a fashion accessory."

"Uh, sorry," Sebastian mumbled. "But yeah, you're right. I haven't. You weren't wearing it last night in the club."

"It's a private thing, that's why." Gunther sat down with his coffee. "Valois doesn't mind you guys seeing it, but it's not a thing to be shown publicly to all and sundry."

Sebastian stared thoughtfully down into his mug of tea, trying to find the right words for all the questions crowding his mind right now.

"You don't have to bother being politically-correct, or even polite with me about it, y'know," Gunther said softly, as he started eating. "I'm quite comfortable with talking about it."

"So... he's your master?" Sebastian asked, hesitantly. "I mean, we all refer to our, well our own particular vampires as 'master', but not in _that_ sense. But, to you, he really _is_ a master?"

"Bingo." Gunther jabbed his fork in the air with a soft laugh, then looked at Elsanine and jerked his head in Sebastian's direction. "I like this one. He's smart! Can we keep him?"

Elsanine giggled. "Best ask Elliott, not me. I think Sebastian will stick around, though. Elliott seems pretty gone on him. How long have you been together, Seb?"

Grimacing at that shortening of his name (but hey; at least it wasn't 'Sebby', which his mother had always treated him to), Sebastian said, "Almost six years. Met him at an open-air sculpture show back where I grew up. His friend was the artist." He grinned. "Me and my mates only went for the free food. There was a bar set up outside for the evening, and when I went to get a drink I found this _gorgeous_ guy sitting there and people-watching."

"I met Valois in a museum," Gunther mused. "By a gilded sarcophagus, of all things. I was curating a new exhibit of Sumerian manuscripts in another wing of the museum, and I'd nipped down to see the new Egyptian finds in my lunch break. There he was, standing in front of this stunning sarcophagus, and all I could see was _him_. It was like his presence took over the entire room."

Two pairs of eyes then turned onto Elsanine, waiting for his 'How I Met My Vampire' story.

"Oh shit," he chuckled. "Mine's not nearly as poetic as both of yours. I met 'Turu at a bus stop in the rain, of all places. I'd _just_ missed the last bus home after work, and was cussing out the driver who hadn't waited for me as I'd run for it, and I sat down at the stop to get my breath back. 'Turu was out for a walk, believe it or not. He loves walking in the rain. He stopped to ask if I was okay, and we got talking..."

"And then he invited you over to his place for dinner," Gunther quipped. "And _you_ were dinner!"

"Pretty much, yeah. Shocked the hell out of me when he finally admitted what he was. I didn't believe him until I saw the fangs, then I asked about a million questions before I let him sip."

"Man, that first time..." Gunther said softly.

Sebastian nodded, vehemently. "Fuck, yeah. Nothing like it."

"Terrified, yet horny as hell and ready to hump anything and everything," Elsanine added, and laughter filled the small room.

The door opened quietly, and Valois looked in, his bright scarlet hair tied loosely at the nape of his neck with a black ribbon. Quite unexpectedly, he was wearing an old, butter-soft pair of faded jeans and an untucked loose white cotton shirt with the undone sleeves pushed back. For some reason, Sebastian had expected Valois to always be dressed like a vampire _should_ be dressed, but here he was, looking almost like the boy next door, were it not for his freakish hair and eyes.

"Ah," Valois murmured, showing sharp white fangs as he smiled. "I _thought_ I could hear trouble coming from this room. Clearly I was correct in that assumption."

"Trouble? Us?" Elsanine's eyes widened in mock-offence. "Never!"

"Mmhm." Valois winked at him. "Of course not."

His gaze landed on Gunther, and it softened. "The coffee delivery has just arrived," he said, his tone now tender and all for his pet. "I think you're going to enjoy some of the new flavours I've ordered." He gestured to Gunther's plate. "Have you eaten well?"

Gunther smiled and nodded, sitting back and cradling his coffee mug. "Full and happy," he murmured.

"Good. I'll see you when you're finished in here." Valois nodded to Elsanine and Sebastian and closed the door behind him.

"He looks really different without that suit he was wearing last night," Sebastian whispered.

Gunther quirked an eyebrow. "He looks even better without anything at all."

He glanced at the door and laughed. "And he has fantastic hearing. Yes, Sir, I'll tell him."

Sebastian bit his lip, wondering if he could sink under the table and not be noticed.

"He said 'tell Elliott's boy that he has a good eye for beauty'," Gunther said, still chuckling. "Another reason why I love my master. He's beautiful and he's vain, but he also admits it. Confidence for _miles_."

"Oh my god," Sebastian mumbled. Never mind sinking under the table; couldn't the floor swallow him up instead?

Gunther rested a hand on Sebastian's arm and leaned in close. "Don't worry about it," he said softly. "He's warmed to you pretty nicely. I can tell. And, given how close he is to Elliott, he'll look out for you as much as your own master will. He looks out for me and Elsanine, and you've just joined that club."

"It's a pretty exclusive club, too," Elsanine chipped in. "We should get t-shirts made up, or something."

Sebastian laughed as Gunther rolled his eyes and sat back again. Already, he'd revised his initial judgement of Gunther in the light of this breakfast. He felt pretty damn sure he'd just made two very good friends, and that deserved celebrating, with...

"More tea?"


	6. Secrets

"So what do you guys do when the vampires are sleeping?" Sebastian queried as he sat back with his third mug of tea. He'd settled in nicely already, and felt quite at home here in this little staff room, chatting to his two new friends.

Gunther took his own mug to the sink to wash it up. "Depends," he said. "Work, if I have any ongoing, which I don't at the moment. Other than that, I read, work on papers, help Valois with the club's accounts, and sometimes sketch or paint. It depends what I feel like doing."

"You'll usually find me reading." Elsanine tilted his chair on its back legs, swaying precariously back and forth. "'Turu has a massive library full of amazing old books, so I snuggle down on the chaise in our room, bundle myself up with cushions and throws, and settle in for a few hours of reading."

"Surely not all day, though," Sebastian said. "Don't you ever leave the club?"

"Oh, sure. Gunther goes to work, like he said, and I go shopping sometimes. Bit boring with nobody else to go with, though." Elsanine sighed. "The coven holds about forty vampires, but not many of them keep their pets here, so there aren't many other mortals around during the day. And, well, you've probably found out already how hard it is to make and keep friends outside of this bizarre little social circle, right?"

Yeah, Sebastian had. What the hell could he talk about with other friends, after all? _So hey, does your boyfriend drink your blood, too?_

He nodded. "I left my old friends behind after I met Elliott. Felt guilty about it, but he was moving on and I didn't want to stay there in that backwater, so I moved with him. Uh, changing the subject, does this place have internet?"

"Of course." Gunther dried his hands on a towel. "High-speed fibre connection and wifi throughout. Valois may be a little old school when it comes to the club's decor, but he appreciates a fast internet connection as much as anyone else these days."

He folded the towel back over its hanger. "I'd best be going. He's staying up on club business, so today, at least, will be spent at his feet."

He looked incredibly happy at this prospect: a fact that made Sebastian gnaw thoughtfully on his lower lip as Gunther said his goodbyes and left the room.

"I can almost hear the cogs whirring in your brain," Elsanine chuckled. "I'd be bored out of my skull, too, but Gunther... Gunther's a bit different. He told me he finds inner peace at Valois's feet, like it's a meditation. He'll happily sit there for hours, zoning out while Valois works on the club's papers."

He leaned back even more, folding his arms behind his head and stretching with a huge yawn, then let the chair slam forward with a thud.

"Well, unless you want to load up on more tea, let's get out of here. I'll give you a quick guided tour of the rest of this place, so you don't get lost, and then I'm going to snuggle down with 'Turu for an hour or so before I dig into a book."

***

There wasn't much more to the club other than that which Sebastian had already seen. Elsanine showed him the two stock rooms behind the bars, piled to the rafters with bottles and casks, pointed out Valois's office door ("always make sure you knock and wait for a reply, and _never_ go in there without being invited to"), the door to his and Arcturus's room as well as the other two guest rooms, and then took his hand and led him to a steep stone staircase.

"It's never wise to go down here alone," he whispered. "Especially during the day."

"Where are we going?" Sebastian whispered back as he followed Elsanine down, down into a long corridor. Elsanine just shook his head and put a finger to his lips as he pushed open the door at the end of the corridor and peeked around it into the room beyond.

After a moment's checking he nodded and gave a little tug on Sebastian's hand, pulling him just inside the room.

Sebastian _stared_. Oh man...

The room was cavernous, easily taking up the floor space of the entire club above it. Lining the walls, and spaced at roughly four-foot intervals, great stone catafalques bore a random selection of caskets and coffins, from simple wooden boxes to ornate polished ebony confections ornamented with gold. There was even a glass casket toward the back of the room, inside which Sebastian could just make out a sleeping figure.

At the foot end of each casket stood a tall candelabrum. Some had candles lit, some were dark. The flames cast dancing shadows around the room, and the silence... oh god, the silence was _oppressive_. It wasn't just the absence of sound; it was more a bloom of utter stillness. The only things that moved in this room were the flames and the two human figures holding their breath, just inside the door and ready to run at a moment's notice.

Sebastian felt a gentle squeeze on his hand, and turned to see Elsanine gesturing toward the door. Hell, yes. He'd happily leave this place far behind and never come back again!

Safely back upstairs in the club, Sebastian let out a shuddering breath. "So I guess that's where they all sleep," he panted.

"Yeah. The ones who don't keep their pets here, anyway." Elsanine hugged him briefly, clearly sensing his unease. "It's scary as hell, I know, but I wanted to show it to you so you didn't accidentally stumble on it one day and wake them up. They're pretty hard to rouse, but once one of them's scented you, the whole lot will start rising. Frightened the living daylights out of me the first time I saw it, but that was because I'm an inquisitive little shit and I made the mistake of going down there just before sunset, so they were ready to wake up anyway."

"Do they all sleep during the day?" Sebastian asked. He knew that Elliott did, but Gunther had said something about Valois not sleeping so he could work on club business.

Elsanine nodded. "Daywalkers can get away with not sleeping, and Valois is the only one of those I know of. They're pretty rare, and I think the ability comes with age. Valois is the Eldest, so it kinda makes sense that he's a Daywalker."

Sebastian wondered if Elliott had slept down in that horrible quiet room years ago. He didn't like to think of his master alone down there in the cold stillness. He knew that Valois was Elliott's sire, so maybe, just maybe Elliott had slept with Valois during his time here? He hoped so.

"Has Valois sired many other vampires?" he asked quietly. _And would Elliott regard them as brothers and sisters?_

"I've no idea. Best ask him, not me." Elsanine shifted from one foot to the other, fiddling with a small lamp in the centre of a bar table beside him. "I don't ask him lots of questions. Everything I know about him comes mainly from Gunther or Arcturus. He's pretty close to 'Turu." He looked up. "There's a hierarchy here, of course. 'Turu is kind of Valois's lieutenant, if you like. Second-in-command."

"And... Elliott?" Sebastian heard himself ask.

Elsanine nodded, as if he'd been expecting that question.

"He _was_ the lieutenant, before he left."

***

Sebastian lay back down on the bed five minutes later, snuggling up to Elliott's body and pulling the covers up around his ears. As he settled down, he felt Elliott shift and swing a possessive arm around him, and he nestled close, his mind racing.

What had happened, to make Elliott give up his position - the second highest in the entire coven - and leave everything behind? This had been his family for centuries, and yet he'd just upped sticks and walked out one day. Had Valois tried to stop him? God, surely as Elliott's sire, he'd have been... well, could a vampire even _be_ heartbroken? It must have been like watching a son leave home, and Elliott had said to that guy on the door last night that they hadn't parted on the best of terms, either.

Elliott shifted again, rousing a little. He uttered a soft sound of wakening, nuzzling against Sebastian's neck. Instinctively, Sebastian lifted his chin to give him better access, and he sighed as a single fang pierced flesh and vein just enough for Elliott to take a long, slow, sleepy sip. One lap of a lazy tongue, a rumbled purr of contentment, and Elliott slipped back under into sleep again.

Despite his meandering thoughts, Sebastian smiled. He loved it when Elliott did that - the vampire equivalent of raiding the fridge for a midnight snack, he supposed - and he wrapped himself around the cool body beside him, warming it up as best he could as he, too, drifted into sleep and dreams of Elliott walking away from a silent Valois who watched him with sorrowful eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, Valois isn't [_that_ kind](http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=daywalker) of Daywalker :p


	7. Past

Elliott woke with the hot scent of a mortal in his nostrils. Stifling a raw moan of pleasure, as he did every night that he roused from his long sleep with Sebastian in his arms, he lay quietly and savoured the moment, prolonging the satiation of his thirst. It was a delicious torment that he permitted himself every night, purely because Sebastian was temptation itself: all long, pale limbs and soft, warm skin snuggled up to him under the sheets. 

Elliott was nothing if not a sensualist. When he'd been alive he had a propensity for savouring his mortal meals before eating, and he had not left that habit behind after Valois had pulled him into the Eternal Night. Before he'd met Sebastian, Elliott would contentedly spend hours seducing his prey - sometimes literally - before finally succumbing to his mounting thirst. And now, with Sebastian in his life and at his side, he had found a pet who adored him and shared his love of that slow, sensual dance of satisfaction.

Finally succumbing to the irresistible urge, Elliott ghosted a gentle kiss over the artery in Sebastian's neck. Even while asleep, Sebastian instinctively tilted his head, and Elliott held back yet another moan. Oh, by Lilith, the boy was unutterably, exquisitely perfect in every way imaginable.

Slowly, Elliott drew back his upper lip, letting the tips of his fangs graze soft, smooth skin. The tease was unbearable as he felt the hot pulse just millimetres away, and he hesitated, drawing out the need, taunting himself until the desire was almost too unendurable.

But, before he allowed himself to break that perfect skin, he shifted a little in the bed, letting one hand drift down below Sebastian's belly. Ah, now that roused his pet somewhat; a soft sigh of contentment exhaled in a warm breath over Elliott's skin as Sebastian parted his thighs, still fast asleep. So willing. So open and ready and willing...

At last, the bite. Razor-sharp fangs pierced Sebastian's skin, reaching the artery a moment later. Sweet, hot _life_ burst forth into Elliott's mouth, and he finally permitted himself that raw moan of pleasure as his hand curled around Sebastian's cock, pulling slowly.

He felt Sebastian awaken beneath him, heard his answering moan as his hips arched and followed Elliott's stroking hand, pushing up as Elliott matched the pounding rhythm of the heart in the beautiful young body that lay in his bed. The fingers of Elliott's other hand were tight in Sebastian's hair, holding his head still as he dove deeper, gasping in the ecstasy of the feed against that soft white neck as Sebastian whimpered and squirmed.

Heat in his mouth, warmth filling his body, and - finally - heat spilling over his hand, and in that moment Elliott knew Sebastian was spent, in every way. Carefully, he lifted his head, letting his fangs pull free. Rills of blood drew fascinating paths down that lovely skin, but he could not allow the fine sheets to be spoiled, and so he licked across the open wound he had made, sealing it up and hiding away Sebastian's precious gift until the next time he wanted it.

Sebastian was breathing shallowly, his heart thumping hard. Elliott could almost hear it in the silence of the room as his hand still stroked gently. Those pale blue eyes suddenly opened, staring hazily up at him, and then - oh, this blessed boy! - a bright smile curved Sebastian's mouth.

"You're the best alarm clock anyone could ever have," he whispered, and Elliott chuckled, bending his neck to kiss Sebastian's lips.

"Good evening, dear heart," he murmured. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm, like a log. I woke up well, too." Sebastian squirmed and his voice took on a hint of desperation. "Hrnnngh! But if you don't stop doing that with your hand, I'm gonna hit you. Too... ah! Too much!"

Again, Elliott kissed him, but didn't stop. "I rather enjoy making you wriggle like this, though," he said, smirking as Sebastian whined in protest. 

"I know, I know," Sebastian panted. "You like watching me come, but for god's sake, give me a bit of a cooldown first!"

Elliott chuckled again, relenting at last. He settled down on his back in the bed, drawing Sebastian on top of him and into his arms. His pet went willingly, wrapping himself around him, clinging onto him and still wriggling a bit.

"Mmm," Sebastian mumbled. "I love this time of day. You've just fed and you're all warm and sexy."

Elliott arched one eyebrow. "Are you telling me that I am not sexy at any other time of the day?"

There was a moment of silence, then Sebastian giggled, digging his fingers into Elliott's waist. "'course you are, you doofus. But when you're _warm_ then that's _really_ sexy."

He raised his head, propping himself up on his elbows with his chin in his hands, looking at Elliott. "I wish, sometimes," he began, his face serious now, "that you were mortal, y'know. That you could just be my boyfriend and we could go out to the beach and hold hands while we walk on the sand, the sun warm on our skin and the breeze blowing though our hair..."

Elliott held back a sigh, keeping his expression impassive, since Sebastian clearly hadn't yet finished. Sometimes he wished that, too, if he admitted it to himself.

"But then," Sebastian continued, smiling now, "I wouldn't have wake-ups like the one I just had. Sure, you could wake me up by jerking me off if you were mortal, but the rest of it? God, that gets me so hot; I love it so much. I love giving you that, being that for you. It's _more_ than just a boyfriend." He paused, tilting his head like an inquisitive - and somewhat uncertain - blackbird. "Does that make sense?"

Elliott kissed him. "It makes as much sense as anything else, dear heart. And of course there are times when I wish those same things as you, but I cannot change what I am now. Valois made that decision for me a long time ago, and I will not regret it, nor what things it has brought me, when you are one of those things."

Sebastian nestled down against him once more, his breath warm across Elliott's chest. "Did you have any say in it? When he turned you, I mean?"

"None," Elliott murmured. "But it was not a decision that he made lightly, I know that much."

"Tell me about it? How did it happen? You've never really talked about it much before."

Elliott sighed, casting his gaze around the room, although whether he was hoping for inspiration or simply for the right words, he had no idea. He opened his mouth to begin speaking, and then he noticed something unusual, something that had never happened before.

There was a chink of daylight at the edge of the heavy curtains that draped the windows. Broad daylight. Not dusk, not sunset, not evening.

_Daylight._

"Elliott?"

Bewildered, Elliott looked down. Sebastian was propped up on his elbows again, looking worried.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Elliot rested a hand in Sebastian's hair, stroking gently. Instantly, Sebastian's eyelids drooped and he nestled back down again. "Nothing, dear heart," Elliott murmured. "Just daydreaming. So you want to know how I became what I am, hm?"

"Yeah." Sebastian's voice was drowsy and he snuggled in close. "I wanna know aaaaall about it."

"Well..." Elliott's gaze returned to that chink of light. "There isn't much to say about it, in all honesty. He had stalked me as prey over a couple of nights, or so he told me. He followed me to several places - a book shop that I frequented, and the tiny little place where I purchased the inks for my quill - and then he cornered me one evening down the alley beside the rooms I was renting at the time. I'd gone down there because it was a shortcut to the tailor's shop and I had taken a fancy to buy some new gloves, of all things. I was not halfway down the alley when I felt a hand on my shoulder."

The room faded around him as he slipped into the memory. _Ah, Lilith, your gifts are sometimes a blessing, sometimes a curse..._

He turned sharply, startled by that hand, and found himself staring into a beautiful face that belonged to a ghost. Well no, not a ghost. The man was too solid to be a ghost, and that hand clamped on his shoulder was too firm as it pushed him inexorably back against the soot-stained brick wall behind him.

Elliott had no idea why he wasn't struggling. Nor did he reach for his pocket book to try and hand it over. Whoever - whatever - this man was, he didn't want money. His strange eyes glinted in the moonlight as he held Elliott pinned to the wall with an incredible strength that Elliott knew he couldn't break free from. Just one hand held him there, yet he was immobile.

And then the man smiled.

All of Elliott's senses tumbled over each other to yell at him what was happening. His eyes screamed about those sharp fangs, his ears clamoured about the hollow silence that suddenly surrounded the two of them, his nose and mouth (for his jaw had dropped and both tongue and nostrils could taste the air) whimpered about the stink of death that bled from the stones beneath his feet, rising in a black cloud to his knees.

_Strigoi!_

"Ah," the man whispered. "You know me."

His grip tightened. "I am not so often recognised," he continued, his voice rising from a whisper to a low, hypnotic murmur. "But then... I do not often show myself. You, pretty, are one whom I have made an exception for."

His smile became cruel. "I wanted to see what those lovely eyes look like when they widen in horror. Ah, so beautiful. What a precious pet you would make, yet I think you would not stand for such... attachment."

Bewildered, Elliott stared dumbly at him, all of his fine words, his book-learning lost to him. There were no words to describe what stood before him, save old legends of night terrors, of the dead rising to break the veins of the living.

Somehow, he managed to speak, and the words that he found surprised him.

"Give me your name," he whispered, the sound thread-thin on the night breeze, "so that I know who leads me down the path to death."

The man cocked his head, his cruel smile fading as he regarded Elliott. One eyebrow arched as he clearly considered for a moment.

"Valois," he finally murmured, watching Elliott closely. Was he hoping for a reaction? Perhaps Elliott's response might shift this moment from one mood to another.

"Valois." Elliott tasted the name on his tongue. "You are named for the French kings of old."

Again, the man smiled, but this time it was one of delight. Again, Elliott's gaze was riveted to those sharp white fangs: a double pair of them where Valois's canines should have been, one a little longer than the other. They were... strangely beautiful in the light from the moon.

"I should have known that a writer would be well-read," Valois murmured. "Intelligent, too, I'll warrant. I have a mind to let you live... after a fashion."

And - without warning - he closed in.

Elliott's head slammed back against the wall, dazing him. Valois's body was crushing him back into the bricks, hard and unyielding, a bruising pressure that was nothing compared to the sharp sting at his throat. He cried out, but the bloom of silence surrounding them muffled the sound, stealing it from his lips even as it faded into a whimper.

The pressure and pull at his throat was tremendous, a terrifying ferocity that made his heart hammer fast and panicked. His legs felt weak, but even had his knees given way completely he would not have collapsed, not with Valois holding him up against the wall like this.

His vision began to fade as his heart fought valiantly to pump through rapidly-emptying veins. He could hear his breath, harsh and gasping in the night air. And still that pressure, that dreadful, horrifying pull, as if Valois was reaching down his veins and slowly, exquisitely tearing his heart out.

He couldn't hear anything now, save the frantic beating of his heart. It was faster, but fainter, and he stared up at the stars in confusion as they melted and streaked through the sky, forming new and beautiful constellations just for him. 

Such lovely stars, he thought, trying to keep his eyes open. So pretty...

The flagstones were cold beneath his cheek as Valois slowly lowered him to the ground and knelt beside him. Elliott couldn't see the stars anymore. He couldn't see much of anything, save a blur of white and red above him. Someone whispered something, a hand touched his cheek, something caressed his forehead, then touched his lips.

His mouth was wet, and he realised he was holding onto something. As he rose slowly up into awareness once more, he gripped tightly. Whatever this was, it was righting his world again. The stars ceased to slip and resumed their usual constellations, and Elliott exhaled for the very last time.

He lay, silent and unbreathing for several minutes, staring up at the sky. He could still faintly feel his heart, slow and weak, making its last grasp at mortality. And then it stopped.

"Welcome to the Eternal Night," a voice whispered.

He turned his head, and inhaled sharply out of pure habit. The night air was full of scents that he'd not picked up on before: dark, rich temptations that pulled at his senses. But one sense was currently so overwhelmed that it pushed everything else behind it: his vision.

Valois was smiling down at him, the most breathtakingly beautiful creature he had ever seen. His skin was almost translucent, glowing ethereal in the moonlight. His bright scarlet hair seemed to move of its own accord, caressing his face as it swept back into a low tied queue at the nape of his neck, and his eyes glinted like dark rubies as he chuckled.

"Oh yes," he murmured. "Isn't it a wonderful experience to finally have eyes that can _see?_ "

"I'm... dead?" Elliott whispered.

"As a doornail. But more alive than any mortal outside this alley." Valois caressed his cheek. "They cannot see what you see, will never hear what you hear. Fascinating creatures, really, thinking they know everything when they know absolutely nothing."

"And you said there isn't much to say about it?!" another voice cut in, and Elliott swam back to the present moment, finding Sebastian gazing up at him, his expression awed.

"I mean... wow!" he was saying. "That was amazing. It was so real; I could almost picture it, like a movie!"

"Ah," Elliott murmured, a little thrown by the reaction, not to mention the sudden pull back into reality. "Well, I have always been something of a storyteller, dear heart."

"No kidding!" Sebastian laughed, nestling back down against Elliott's chest again. "When did all this happen? You said at the start about ink for your quill, and a tailor making your gloves. I'm guessing this was a looong time ago?"

Elliott's gaze went once more to that chink of light by the curtains. "It was the 21st of May, 1784," he murmured.

"Damn, you're old!" Sebastian giggled, sliding both arms around Elliott's waist. "You're a fuckin' cradlesnatcher!"

Elliott just smiled, tousling Sebastian's hair affectionately as he closed his eyes. And, a moment later, he heard Valois's voice whispering quite clearly in his mind:

_Daywalker._


	8. Company

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for bearing with me during the brief break in these chapters. I had some computer issues that resulted in a full factory reset and I'm still getting everything reinstalled and back to how it was. I think The Rose is back up and running now, though!

Sebastian spent a blissful fifteen minutes or so snuggled up to Elliott, enjoying those long fingers slowly tousling through his hair as he drowsed against Elliott's chest. He loved these times, when Elliott's body was warmed by the feed. It wasn't that he didn't love cuddling up to his master all the time, because of course he did, but it wasn't quite the same when the skin that he touched was cool. Right now, he could almost imagine that Elliott was just his normal boyfriend and they were curled up in bed together on a Sunday morning, with breakfast and coffee a pleasant distraction to look forward to.

He huffed a faint sigh and pressed a fierce kiss to Elliott's shoulder, earning himself a soft, questioning murmur.

"Nothing," he mumbled. "Just wishing this moment could go on forever."

Elliott's chuckle felt so loud in his ear, nestled as close as he was, but it was warm and heartfelt. "As do I, dear heart. However, I am afraid we must rouse ourselves. Valois has requested our company in his private quarters."

Sebastian looked up. "He has? Why?"

"I have no more idea than you do," Elliott said. "But most likely it is purely a social call. He has been up all day, working on the club's accounts, and he would probably appreciate a little company before lights go up on the club tonight."

"Oh." Sebastian's mind went instantly to what Gunther had said earlier that day: that he'd be spending the day at Valois's feet. He had to admit, he was really curious about that, and he wasn't sure why. Mainly he found himself wondering exactly how that happened: did Gunther kneel or sit or curl up on the floor?

He shook his head and yawned, pushing himself up onto one hip as Elliott also sat up. Warm fingers cradled Sebastian's chin, holding his head steady as Elliott kissed him. The faintest graze of a sharp fang, the slightest sting of pain, the smallest bloomed droplet of blood, the gentle lick of a tender tongue, and Elliott smiled down at him.

"Now that I have greeted you properly, I shall head to the shower. Sadly, we must wear yesterday's clothes, since I was unsure of our welcome and didn't consider that we might overday here. Make yourself as presentable as you can, my dear. Valois does not tolerate untidiness."

"I don't blame him. Are there toiletries here?" Sebastian pushed back the covers and got to his feet. "Like hotels have, I mean. Toothpaste and stuff?"

"Of course. Look in the cabinet beneath the sink. You will find all that you need there."

***

The bathroom window was heavily shaded when Sebastian followed Elliott in there. Earlier that morning the sun had been streaming in, but Elliott had pulled down the blind and flicked on the lights. Sebastian could still see the soft glow of daylight around the edges of the blind, and he blinked at it.

"It's still day," he murmured, as Elliott stepped into the shower.

Elliott hesitated, one hand on the shower door. "It is," he said softly. "That may be another reason why Valois wishes to see us."

He closed the shower door and a moment later the sound of running water broke Sebastian's curious reverie. Elliott never normally woke before sunset. In fact, Sebastian could guarantee that his master would _not_ damn well wake up until dusk. But here he was, wide awake and the sun was still up.

He shrugged, bending to peer into the cabinet beneath the sink. Ah! Fresh facecloths, individually-wrapped toothbrushes, tubes of toothpaste, elegant little cakes of soap... everything he could possibly need to feel as fresh as the proverbial daisy again.

***

"Anything I should be aware of before we go in here?" Sebastian whispered as they walked hand-in-hand down the corridor to Valois's quarters, some half an hour later. He'd done the best he could with his hair and had even hung his shirt in the bathroom while Elliott showered, in an attempt to steam the worst of the creases out.

"Respect, and nothing more." Elliott released Sebastian's hand and instead flung an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. "Don't be afraid of him, or nervous. You're just walking into the rooms of a man who loves books and music and his beloved boy, not into the lions' den."

At that, Sebastian grinned and body-checked Elliott. "I know. He stuck his head into the room where me, Elsanine, and Gunther were having breakfast earlier. Kind of a surprise to see him in jeans and a casual shirt."

"Well, he has exquisite taste, no matter what he does, so I would warrant that the jeans were immaculate and the shirt was pristine and un-creased." Elliott stopped in front of a door, bent his head to kiss Sebastian, then knocked.

There was no command to enter, but clearly Valois had given it silently, if Gunther's words in the breakfast room were to be believed. Elliott opened the door and walked in, Sebastian practically glued to his side and staring wide-eyed around him.

The room was smaller than he'd imagined, but it was clearly a study of some kind. The walls were panelled in a rich, dark wood, the windows were shaded by heavy red velvet drapes edged with gold filigree. Ponderous bookshelves lined one wall, a desk nestled in one corner, and behind it a comfortable dark wicker chair bore a soft paisley throw and a silk embroidered cushion. To one side of the desk, another door led to what was presumably Valois's bedroom. Antique paintings hung here and there, and potted plants offered greenery and pleasant scents throughout the room. It was all far cosier than Sebastian had expected, but then Valois seemed to delight in surprising him.

In front of the bookshelves two elegant chaises longues stood on several artfully-arranged rugs, and atop one of them Valois lounged, a book in one hand and the fingers of his other hand resting comfortably in Gunther's hair.

Gunther was sitting on the floor, still in the white bathrobe, wearing his collar and leaning back against the chaise with his eyes closed and a peaceful expression on his face. Well, that answered Sebastian's curiosity about _that_ , anyway. Although he wondered if the bathrobe was a courtesy to Valois's guests, and if Gunther was normally... not dressed when he was like this.

"Elliott, darling," Valois murmured, putting down the book and holding out his hand. Elliott took it and was pulled firmly down for a kiss. He didn't let Sebastian go, and so Sebastian was - somewhat awkwardly - pulled down with him, trying not to stand on poor Gunther, who was a bit squashed between his legs and the chaise.

Valois's gaze rested, bright and amused, on Sebastian's face. "Welcome to my lair," he chuckled, letting go of Elliott's hand and cupping his palm around the back of Sebastian's neck. "I never let anyone come in here without a kiss, dear boy," he added in a mischievous whisper, as his hand inexorably pulled Sebastian's head down.

His lips were warm as he kissed Sebastian's mouth and then let him go. So warm, in fact, that he felt... mortal.

"My, you are a curious little thing, aren't you?" he said softly. "Make yourselves comfortable," he added, settling back against the chaise and gesturing to the other one. "I have been hunched over accounts all day and need a little wind-down before the curtain goes up, as it were. Did you sleep well, Elliott?"

"I always do, with Sebastian at my side," Elliott said as he lay down on the second chaise and held out his arms. Sebastian snuggled down into his embrace, almost purring happily. Oh, he liked it in this room. It smelled of plants and books and polished wood and... incense?

"Indeed incense," Valois confirmed. "Amber, to be precise. Gunther is very fond of it, aren't you, my dear?"

A soft, affirmative sound came from Gunther, who nodded but otherwise didn't move or open his eyes. Valois's fingers were moving softly in his hair, which was unbound and loose, and Sebastian recognised that blissed-out expression as the one he must wear himself whenever Elliott touched him like that.

"So, darling," Valois murmured. "It is still light outside..."

"...and I woke almost an hour ago," Elliott finished, equally softly. "Is that not a rare phenomenon, though? You are the only Daywalker that I'm aware of, and that thanks to your age."

"But you are my fledgling," Valois countered. "And have lived centuries yourself. Is that not a combination which may lead to another of my kind coming into being in our dark little world?"

"I am not your _only_ fledgling."

Valois sighed. "You are the only one still extant. There were never many, as you know. I do not sire lightly, as you also know."

"What happened to David?" Elliott asked. "He was still here at your side when I left."

Sebastian watched silently as a pained expression crept briefly over Valois's ageless face. Now he knew what Valois must have looked like as Elliott walked away from the Rose all those years ago: like a father watching his son leave home after a blistering argument. He knew that Elliott's departure had not been on good terms, but Elliott had never told him why.

"Oblivion," Valois whispered.

Sebastian winced, sympathising with the anguish in that word, but then Valois added something that stunned him:

"...and I sent him there."

"What happened?" Elliott murmured.

Silence blossomed in an uncomfortable aura around them, filling the room. Finally, Gunther stirred, taking Valois's hand and cradling it between his own, kissing the back of it and nuzzling his cheek against it. The simple, loving gesture seemed to give Valois the ability to go on, and he continued in a low voice:

"He let his thirst grow too great. I warned him repeatedly that it was dangerous and could lead to him losing control, but he just laughed and told me it made the feed so much better. And, like a fool, I just accepted his explanations and promises that he would never let it get out of control."

He raised his face, staring at Sebastian for a moment, before he sighed again and looked away.

"He went too far one night before the club opened. Not long after you left, in fact. He'd gone four days without feeding and thought he could handle it, but then... Fuchsia's pet happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Oh, Lilith, no," Elliott whispered. "Emilia?"

Valois nodded. "The lust came over him so fast she didn't know what hit her. She was gone in less than a minute, before I even sensed what was amiss." His expression said it all; the very picture of a man mentally kicking himself. "I failed the poor girl. The least I could do was avenge her."

"I'm sorry," Sebastian heard himself say softly. "That must have been so hard. Elliott told me that fledglings are like children to their sires."

"In the sense that we will do anything to protect them, they are, yes," Valois said, pulling himself together. "Sending him over was the most painful thing I have ever done." He hesitated. "No... telling Fuchsia what had happened; _that_ was the most painful thing I have ever done. And, sweet one, I have told a lot of people about a lot of sad things in my time. But yes, that was the hardest."

Sebastian paused, unsure whether he should ask the question that was bumping insistently at the front of his mind.

"Oblivion," Valois murmured, answering it anyway, "is death to a vampire. We die when we are sired, but that is only a mortal death. Oblivion is death of the self." He gave a wry smile. "I suppose, in a way, it is better than what faces our kind if we are ended in any other manner. Oblivion is eternal nothingness. That has to be better than eternal damnation, does it not?"

Sebastian shrugged. "I'm not religious, so it's all eternal nothingness to me. Once this life is over, it's done."

Valois gave a wry smile. "Alas, that is not an option for me. My mortal life... precludes the possibility of atheism, or even of agnosticism."

"The mortal life of which you are so silent," Elliott chuckled. "Have you ever told anyone what you once were, or even _when_ you once were?"

"Not a soul, living or otherwise," came the reply, and Valois laughed. "Though they be ever-so-curious, nobody has yet brought out the urge in me to speak of it."

Sebastian felt that strange, ruby gaze alight on him once more. Unlike before, it didn't make him feel uncomfortable now, but it was deep and penetrating, as if it searched the deepest recesses of his mind.

"Until now," Valois added, very softly.


	9. Histories

Sebastian didn't know how to feel about Valois's unexpected admission. _He_ was the one who had prompted the Eigne, after centuries of silence, to finally tell his tale? Why him? There was nothing special about Sebastian Carpenter, after all. He was just a computer programmer from a tiny backwater town in the middle of nowhere! Okay, he happened to be the boyfriend and pet of a hot vampire whom Valois had clearly once been very close to, but that was about it. Why hadn't Elliott inspired Valois to speak before now? Why Sebastian, and not him?

Valois was cradling Gunther's chin in his hand and lifting his face. "Up into my arms, mine," he murmured. "I would have you close to me while I reminisce."

Getting slowly to his feet, and careful not to show too much flesh, Gunther settled down in Valois's arms on the chaise, in much the same manner that Sebastian was snuggled with Elliott. He buried his face in Valois's throat, placed a hand on Valois's shoulder, and hooked one leg around Valois's hips. As Sebastian watched him move, he realised that Gunther was assuming a _very_ protective position, and it dawned on him that Gunther watched over his master just as Valois watched over him.

He liked that. A lot.

"Now," Valois said, with a contented little sigh, "where to begin? Should I simply wade in and blurt it out, or should I tease it into a full story?"

Gunther's lips curved into a smile. "You tease so beautifully, Master," he said softly, "but I'm as curious as Sebastian and Elliott are, I think."

Valois chuckled. "Very well then."

He settled himself comfortably, slid a hand beneath the robe to rest possessively on Gunther's (presumably-bare) backside, and closed his eyes.

"When I was very young, I had visions," he began. "At first, they were written off as childish fantasies, silly little notions that I would grow out of. I was the youngest scion of a wealthy family of that time - which I shall now reveal to you as the Elizabethan era."

At Sebastian's wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression, Valois simply smiled. "Yes, sweet one. I am _that_ ancient. Or... did you expect me to be even older?"

"Not older, no," Sebastian managed. "Elizabethan? Wasn't that, like, the 1500s?"

"Precisely so. I was born early in the reign of Good Queen Bess, and by Lilith it was a blessed time to be alive. The religious question was settled toward Anglicanism, after many years of uncertainty and infighting between Protestants and Catholics, and the terrible edicts of Bloody Queen Mary. Though Philip of Spain and the Guises of France were intermittently hostile to England, on the whole life had begun to settle. Our young queen was beautiful and popular, and..." He shrugged one shoulder and smiled. "Well, it was simply a pleasant time. Not just for those of our higher class, but also for the peasants in the fields. Harvests were bountiful, and it seemed that God had blessed our land."

"Did you ever meet the queen?" Sebastian asked.

"I was not presented to her, no, but I had the pleasure of seeing her on many an occasion. Hers was a very public monarchy, and she would frequently be seen in her barge on the river, or on progresses around the country. However, my story is not about the queen.

"As I grew older, my visions became more... persistent. And people began to take notice, especially when I predicted things that could not have been known beforehand. The birth of a child, for example, was something that I would casually mention before the mother even knew she was pregnant. Imagine the confusion of a woman on being congratulated for a future birth she had not anticipated!"

"Well, I guess it beats peeing on a plastic stick," Sebastian remarked. "That was how Mom told Demetrius she was pregnant with Maru: she left the pregnancy test on the coffee table in the living room. I mean... ew!"

After the laughter in the room had died down, Valois closed his eyes again to continue.

"I was becoming a nuisance and an embarrassment to my family, since I would talk about these visions quite normally, speaking of them in general conversation. The visions, you see, were of angels. They would appear and walk with me in the grounds of our estate, they would fly alongside me as I rode out hunting, and they would speak with me on many subjects."

He opened his eyes and sighed. "Beautiful creatures, they were, and so gentle and loving. Is it any wonder that I refused to be silenced when my family scorned my little fantasies? Why would I discard such tender and divine company as I had?"

"But... you did, eventually?" Elliott asked.

"By force, yes." Again, Valois sighed, his free hand caressing Gunther's hair. "It was deemed that I was probably quite mad and should be sent away to a place where I could talk with the angels as often as I wished."

He raised his head and looked directly at Elliott and Sebastian.

"And so," he said softly, "I entered the church."

After a moment's silence, wherein Sebastian wondered why walking into a church might have stopped Valois's strange visions, Elliott's softly amazed voice broke into his thoughts.

"You were a _priest?_ "

"Indeed so. I entered the priesthood, and there - at last - I found my calling. That is why, darling, I am able to quote from the Bible so fluently. I was indeed alone for a long time with only that book for entertainment. I became the minister for a small parish church far from my home, and found my sermons in the visitations of angels."

Fascinated, Sebastian stared at Valois, trying (and failing miserably) to imagine him in a priest's vestments.

"But you said they stopped visiting, by force?" he prompted.

"They did, but not whilst I was preaching. That only happened the night that my sire turned up." Valois fixed his gaze upon Elliott. "You wondered often about my fangs, did you not, darling?"

Above Sebastian, Elliott nodded. "They are not like any other I have seen. I know they cause you to feed in a different manner, too. I recall that much from our earliest days when we would hunt together."

Gunther lifted his head, pressed a tender kiss to the corner of Valois's mouth, then settled back down again. Sebastian - who was beginning to understand how to read Gunther's little gestures - could see what he meant by it: _I love your fangs, no matter how different they are._

Valois returned that kiss, but to the crown of Gunther's head. Then, he turned to face Sebastian.

"You have not seen them, though. If you wish to - and I know that curiosity is an important part of your personality, sweet one - then come closer and I will show you."

Sebastian looked up at Elliott, who had relinquished his embrace and was smiling down at him. "Go on," Elliott said, with an encouraging little nod.

Carefully, Sebastian eased himself off the chaise and made his way across to Valois.

"Kneel on Gunther's cushion down there, that you may be close enough to see," Valois murmured. "Fear not, darling. I won't harm you."

Trembling a little, Sebastian sank down onto the soft cushion that Gunther had earlier been sitting on, and leaned closer to Valois, biting his lip nervously.

Valois's upper lip suddenly curled up in a snarl, revealing a strange set of fangs. Where Elliott had only one long upper fang and a slightly shorter lower one, Valois had two - one of them slightly shorter than the other - in his upper jaw, and a single long fang in his lower jaw. Not quite as long as Elliott's, they resembled animal teeth as opposed to typical vampire teeth, and Sebastian stared at them, fascinated.

Then, he realised something else about them. They were _etched_. Curiously, and with a quick glance at Valois's eyes, he leaned closer.

"There's something written on them," he murmured. "But it's so small I can't read it."

Valois's lip sank back down, and Sebastian pulled back.

" _There is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live_ ," Valois murmured. "That is what it says. A little joke of my sire's, to turn a man of the cloth to the Eternal Night and leave him with a reminder that the god who made him what he now was had superseded the God whom he worshipped."

He fixed Sebastian with an unwavering and unsettling gaze. "He left me, mere minutes after pulling me into the Eternal Night. I was newborn to this world, and alone and frightened." Cradling a palm to Sebastian's cheek, he added softly, "That is why, dear boy, I rule my nest with what you might call an iron fist. If a vampire wishes to sire, then they keep their fledgling close until they can live alone in this dark world. And, if the vampire refuses to do this, he is cast out from the nest and we take the fledgling into our embrace and teach them ourselves."

"You really are a family, aren't you?" Sebastian whispered.

Valois arched up and kissed him, his eyes now gentle. "Yes, we are. And you are now a part of it, since you brought my only remaining son home to me again."


	10. Abandonment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a visual of Terpsichore, please [click here](https://valoisfulcanelli.tumblr.com/post/158162458144/terpsichore-cavafy-named-for-the-joy-of-dancing) :)

Sebastian stared down at Valois for a moment, then he smiled. It was returned instantly and warmly, with a caress of his cheek. The hand that palmed against his skin was warm, and he resolved to ask - at some point - how come Valois never seemed to have the cool skin that other vampires did. Elliott was only warm after he'd fed, but a quick check of Gunther - who was now dozing contentedly against Valois's chest - showed that he wasn't unduly pale, and Sebastian was pretty sure that Valois wasn't the type to kill unless he absolutely had to.

"Return to Elliott now," Valois murmured. "He's quite missing your touch, I think."

"I am indeed," Elliott said, and as Sebastian turned he saw Elliott regarding him with one welcoming hand held out and a pleased smile gracing his lips. He seemed infinitely happy that his sire and his pet got along so well, and Sebastian slipped back into his embrace with a contented little purr as Valois returned to his story.

"My fangs, as you have seen, cause me to feed differently. Not for me the elegant single piercing of flesh and vein." Valois sighed softly. "I am... incapable of such delicacy, thanks to my sire. It was his doing that I have such a disadvantage, for he was what we call 'strigoi', and not a classical vampire that you know of today. Strigoi are much more ancient, more feral - almost like animals - and thus their fledglings' fangs are like those of beasts. None but I exist now, so I alone suffer the burden of feeding like an animal when my thirst grows unbearable."

"I remember the moment when you sired me," Elliott murmured. "In hindsight, the force with which you drained my body was frightening, so fast and strong was it."

Valois nodded. "The human body contains approximately eight pints of blood. It can take the average vampire several minutes to drain a mortal to the point of death. I, on the other hand, am capable of doing it in about thirty seconds."

"But you don't kill," Sebastian interjected. "At least, not anymore."

Valois tilted his head, regarding him curiously. "Now what put that notion into your head, hm?"

"I... dunno. I just got the impression from you that you don't kill now. That you'd only kill if it was absolutely necessary."

"The more I know of you," Valois said softly, his eyes narrowing for a moment, "the more I am forced to revise my opinion of you, darling. You are indeed correct. I no longer kill. And so your next question, I suspect, will be 'then how do you feed enough to keep your body as warm as it is, if you can't just sip like other vampires do?'. Am I correct?"

Sebastian felt himself go red, and he nodded at Valois's chuckle.

In response, Valois simply quirked one eyebrow and held up his hand, showing him the silver ring that he'd used to slash Elliott's wrist the night before.

"This, my dear," he said. "This is what I use. So, you see, I _am_ capable of elegantly piercing flesh and vein, but I simply use this to assist me."

He looked at the ring, turning his hand so that the silver reflected the low lamplight in the room, glinting and shimmering. "I have several rings, actually," he murmured. "In many different designs. Some I use merely for the feed, and those have sharp enough points to pierce flesh. Others have honed edges that I use to scratch and draw blood." He flicked a teasing glance toward Sebastian. "Much more erotic, and it makes Gunther squirm so prettily," he added softly.

Gunther didn't seem at all embarrassed by this admission, but Sebastian could feel his own neck heating up. Elliott's hand moved to rest gently on the hot skin there, and Sebastian heard Valois say very softly, "I shall gift one to you, Elliott, that you may try with your young beauty. He seems to rather enjoy the idea."

"Can't we go back to your fangs or something?" Sebastian whined, prompting laughter from the two vampires in the room.

"Ah, I tender my apologies," Valois said. "I do love to tease, and I forget sometimes that not all are as comfortable with it as my own boy is. I shall return to the tale of my siring, for that will indeed change the mood of the moment."

There was a pause, and then he continued, his tone now low and less amused:

"I was left for dead in the churchyard, with sunrise barely half an hour away. My sire pulled me into the Eternal Night and then walked away from me. I could hear his laughter fading as he left me to my fate. Weakened and confused, I had no idea what had just happened to me. But, as the sky began to lighten in the east, I could feel a mounting terror within me. I just _knew_ that I had to get indoors before the sun rose.

"I crawled - still incapable of walking - past tombstones, my fingernails clogged with dirt, my vestments filthy with both mud and blood, my throat stopped-up with panic. I was gasping for air, because I thought I should still be breathing, but I could not understand why I felt no relief from those breaths."

Valois turned his gaze onto Sebastian. "Imagine, if you will, holding your breath for as long as you can. Then, when you can hold it no longer and you exhale, you _have_ to inhale again as quickly as you can. And what a relief it is when you get that lungful of air, hm? But now imagine that lungful not registering, as if you are still reaching for air, still desperately trying to breathe. You see, darling, it takes the human body more time to die than you might imagine. And it takes the human _mind_ even longer to accept that its vehicle is no longer living."

He sighed. "I made it into the porch just in time, as the sun's rays poked through the thick stand of trees surrounding the church. If not for those trees, I would not have had time enough to escape its murderous rays. But the porch afforded me the shelter of shadows as I stared out into the bright morning world, bewildered and with the slow creeping exhaustion of daysleep coming over me. I managed to stand, and - leaning heavily on each pew as I staggered down the nave - I finally reached the sanctuary of the vestry, where I collapsed on a couch and gave myself up to sleep."

"You were lucky that nobody found you in that state and thought to take you to the apothecary," Elliott murmured.

"Lucky indeed, for that would have been a lethal journey for me." Valois closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the cushions. "I woke at sunset, and by then I was fully dead. I remember quite clearly the moment when I opened my eyes and sat up... to find my angels standing by the vestry door."

A note of anguish crept into his voice. "They kept their distance from me, not willing to touch me as they once had. They told me this was the last time they could visit me, but they had decided to do so this one final time because I was lost and alone with no idea what I now was." 

Sebastian watched as Gunther nuzzled his face into Valois's throat, tears on his cheeks. Valois slipped gentle fingers into Gunther's hair, stroking and soothing as he continued.

"They told me what I had come to be, and what I now must do in order to survive. I begged them to tell me how I could free myself from it. I said that I would give myself to the sun to die and return with them. And then... they told me I would never enter those gates I had longed to pass through one day when my life was done. I was no longer a Child of God, but a Child of Lilith, and to her I must now turn. They..." Valois hesitated, his voice hitching softly. "They gave me what blessings they could, and then they left."

"Did you ever see them again?" Sebastian whispered.

"No. My lifelong companions abandoned me. As my family had abandoned me. As my sire had abandoned me."

At that moment, Sebastian felt Elliott cringe beneath him, and he snuggled down, hugging his master as best he could. Elliott, too, had abandoned Valois, and that pain was clearly still fresh, even though it happened seventy-five years ago.

Just before the sudden silence in the room became a little too long for comfort, a gentle knock sounded at the door, and Valois opened his eyes, a sad smile gracing his lips.

"And here comes happiness, to cheer us all up again," he murmured, calling out louder, "Come!"

The door opened, admitting a tall man clad from head to toe in black satin and leather, with hair that was an incredible shade of aquamarine tied loosely back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. Across his left eye he wore a fancy patch fashioned from gold filigree and a pale blue china rose, and his fingers were beringed and elegant. He moved with the grace of a dancer as he bent to kiss Valois and then turned to face Elliott.

"My beautiful man," he said softly. "I missed your return last night, but I am here now to welcome you home." He knelt beside the couch and took Elliott's hand to kiss the back of it. "It is inexpressibly good to see you again."

"You too, Kora," Elliott murmured, the warmth of his smile reaching his eyes.

Sebastian watched them embrace - almost being caught up in it himself, since he was still snuggled up to Elliott. He could see that they were old friends, and that this Kora was another trusted and true member of Valois's closer circle of acquaintance. It surprised him to realise that he felt no jealousy at all; rather, he was just glad that Elliott had more friends than he had ever guessed.

"And who are you, my dear?" Kora was asking Sebastian. "I see the way that he holds you, and I rejoice that he has found such a lovely pet to warm his life."

"Sebastian Carpenter," Sebastian replied, taking the hand that was offered to him and shaking it firmly. He liked this guy already, because Kora genuinely seemed to care about Elliott.

Kora, in turn, was both amused at the vigorous handshake and evidently pleased at Sebastian's acceptance of him.

"My full name is Terpsichore," he murmured. "Only my closest friends call me Kora."

"Call him 'Terp' at your peril," Valois chuckled.

"Indeed," Terpsichore said, with a roll of his eyes. "Normally, Sebastian, I would request the courtesy of my full name from your lips, but given your closeness to the two people I care for most in this dark little world, you may also call me Kora, should you wish to."

"A signal honour indeed," Elliott said. "Thank you."

Terpsichore waved a dismissive hand. "He brings your handsome face to cast mine into shadow once more. I welcome the competition, but only if you still consent to dance with me on occasion."

Elliott laughed. "Such a gentleman, as ever. Of course I will, though I must explain the dance to Sebastian before we take up the habit of it once more." He glanced down at Sebastian, who fixed him with a puzzled look. "It is not quite a dance as you know it, my dear. When vampires dance, blood is involved, and to outsiders that glimpse it, it can seem sensual, even sexual."

Sebastian bit his lip. It could _seem_ sensual and sexual? Or it _was_ sensual and sexual?

"It's beautiful, actually," Gunther mumbled from his comfortable position against Valois's chest. He was toying with a lock of Valois's hair and smiling distantly. "I remember that day you and my master allowed me to watch you both dance. It took my breath away."

Sebastian was now _insanely_ curious, especially since Valois's response to Gunther's words had been a sly smile and a raised eyebrow directed at Terpsichore, who had returned both with a throaty laugh.

"Ah, the curiosity is strong with this one, I think," Terpsichore said. "Our first dance will be ours alone, sweet Sebastian. Seventy-five years is a long time to be denied the dance from someone you adore. After that? Well, we shall see."

Elliott chuckled. "You will find that Sebastian is a master of the fluttered eyelashes, so - to quote him and his predilection for gaming - I hope you have rolled some awesome resistance stats." He cast a sidelong glance at Sebastian and stage-whispered, "Did I get that right?"

Sebastian rolled his eyes and jabbed a finger into Elliott's ribs, making him laugh as he shifted his legs aside to allow room for Terpsichore to perch on the end of the chaise.

"I really need to introduce more seating into this room," Valois mused. "I enjoy the company, but I would rather my guests be comfortable."

"No matter." Terpsichore waved that elegant hand again. "I shall be off soon enough. Morgan sent a text earlier to tell me he would be in tonight. I just wanted to greet Elliott before I lost myself in that lovely boy's company."

Elliott raised an eyebrow. "You've finally found yourself a pet?"

"Oh Lilith, no!" Terpsichore laughed. "The day that Morgan agrees to _that_ kind of deal is the day I shall call a doctor to check him for fever! He is a rare mortal indeed: content to sit and talk with me for hours about shared interests, knowing what I am and what this place is, but with no interest in what both it and I can offer him, outside of company and conversation."

"That wistful look suggests you wish otherwise," Valois observed, pressing a kiss to Gunther's hair as his pet watched the conversation contentedly.

Terpsichore fixed Valois with a pointed look. "You _have_ seen Morgan, haven't you?"

"Of course I have, mostly with you less than two feet away from his side. However, you have not introduced him to me yet." 

Terpsichore made a small _moue_ with his lips. "Well, I _could_ do that..." he said, uncertainly.

Valois merely smiled. "Darling, I know how much he means to you, thus I will forgive any shortcomings that he has. At least, until he understands that I am the person who can ensure he never enters this place again, which - if the frequency of his visits is anything to go by - I am certain would be incentive enough to afford me due respect."

At that moment, a soft chime made Terpsichore dig into his pocket and pull out his phone. A moment later, he smiled. "Ah, he's in the line outside. I'd best make myself beautiful for him!"

Valois glanced up at the old wooden clock on the wall above his study desk. "Ah yes. Showtime." He stretched, and Gunther finally sat up, allowing him to stand.

"If you will excuse me, I need to change and then sup before we open." Valois slid an arm around Gunther's waist. "We have Immanuil on the decks tonight, so it's going to be a lively one, I think. Will you be joining us, Elliott, or do you need to return home?"

Sebastian wrapped both arms around Elliott's waist as they stood together near the study door. He liked this place, liked most of the people here, but god, he really wanted to get changed into some different clothes, so he hoped Elliott would take him back to the hotel they'd been staying in since they arrived in the city.

" _This_ is my home, Eigne," Elliott murmured. "However, I do need to at least fetch a change of clothing and some other personal effects, so we will join you later tonight."

Valois nodded, kissing Elliott's cheek and caressing Sebastian's hair with a brief smile. "Then safe journey to you both."


	11. Voices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a question you'd like to ask any of the vampires or mortals from The Rose? I've [opened up character asks](https://valoisfulcanelli.tumblr.com/post/159315126474/i-havent-done-this-for-a-while-and-since-the) over the weekend on my Tumblr. Anons are on, if you're shy, so if you have a burning question (or several) for any of my characters, drop by and ask it!

Sebastian perched on the end of the hotel bed as he watched Elliott gather together the few things he'd unpacked and put them back into his overnight bag. A clean change of clothing had put them both in a better mood, and allowed Sebastian to feel almost human again. He'd checked his rucksack for his few personal belongings, and had his laptop sitting on the bed beside him, and now all he had to do was wait until Elliott was ready to leave.

"So we'll be living at the club from now on?" he asked, as Elliott zipped up the elegant leather bag and patted the clasp down. "In that fancy bedroom?"

Elliott paused and glanced at him. "You don't sound too thrilled about the idea."

"I'm fine with it. Just wondered if that's where we're going to settle for a while now." Sebastian swung his feet back and forth a few times. "We've been moving from place to place for so long, it'll be nice to just stop and find somewhere to call home."

Elliott sat down beside him, taking his hand and cradling it between his cool palms. "Dear heart, it is the one place in this city where we will never need to move on. No suspicious landlords, no whispering about our nocturnal lifestyle, no worries that we will be turfed out in the middle of the day."

Sebastian nodded. "I've been more worried about that last one than I think you realise," he mumbled. "Especially since that motel fire last month. We were lucky it happened right before sunset, and you could stand in the shade after everyone was evacuated."

Elliott kissed his cheek. "Drama does not follow me quite that often," he said, his tone one of amusement. "But yes, that was a worrisome moment. We shall be perfectly safe at the Rose. And by the way, it's not just a fancy bedroom. A whole suite of rooms adjoins it. We will have a cosy panelled room like Valois's study, as well as a more open lounge area where you can set up a work desk and I can have a writing table."

Sebastian grimaced. "I've not had any commissions for ages. Not since I had to pull out of that big one unexpectedly when I left Pelican Town with you."

He looked up, noticing Elliott's hurt expression, and hurried to dispel it. "Oh god, I'd never have stayed! I'm glad that I left with you, hell I'm _so_ fucking glad I did, you have no idea. But I really trashed my reputation when I walked out on that commission and left the devs hanging."

Elliott kissed him tenderly, one hand stroking his hair. "You gave up everything for me," he murmured. "I will never forget that, nor what it took for you to do so. You can build a new reputation, under a new name if you have to. Talent such as yours will always find a way."

Sebastian grinned, butting his forehead against Elliott's shoulder. "Flattery gets you everywhere, you gorgeous man. I'm good, but I'm not _that_ good."

"Perhaps, then, it is time for you to prove your talents to yourself. Create your own game." Elliott chuckled. "Make it one where the player is a vampire and must feed without being discovered. A stealth game, like the one I have seen you play with that Snake Solid character."

Sebastian giggled. "You are _so_ adorable when you try to be down with the kids." He pecked a kiss to Elliott's cheek. "But y'know, you may be onto something there. I'll have a think about it."

***

It was almost 11pm by the time they reached the Rose. The line outside had gone, and the bouncers were dealing with an over-emotional clubgoer, made the worse for wear by a few drinks. She was draped over the shoulder of one of them, sobbing uncontrollably, and - as Elliott and Sebastian walked up - he looked up helplessly.

"I only wanted him to sip from me and he wouldnnnnnnn't!" she wailed, right in the bouncer's ear. He winced, but still held onto her, muttering something to his colleague, who vanished inside the club.

"Busy night, Chase?" Elliott queried, one arm around Sebastian's waist as he addressed the bouncer.

Chase rolled his eyes and nodded. "It's rammed in there. From what I can get out of this one, she made a move on Terpsichore and he told her he wasn't interested."

Sebastian eyed her up and down. She was dressed to kill, and could have taken her pick of any number of vampires in the club. Hell, she was drunk enough to just have a good time dancing. Why had she taken Terpsichore's refusal so badly?

The club door opened and a familiar figure stepped out.

"Oh, thank Lilith," Chase sighed, as Arcturus approached them and laid a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder.

She looked up at him, her pretty face streaked with tears, mascara running in ugly rivulets down her cheeks, blonde hair wildly and comically escaping the tight constraints of what looked like half a can of hairspray. Arcturus bent to look her in the face, and whispered something to her.

Instantly, her expression changed. She stared at him for a moment, then offered a tentative smile and nod. He held out a handkerchief, with which she dried her tears, and then she took his offered arm and let him walk her back inside the club.

"I don't know what we'd do without him sometimes," Chase muttered, leaning against the wall and examining his fingernails. He picked off a few stray blonde hairs from the shoulder of his immaculate suit, then straightened himself up again.

"What did he say to her?" Sebastian asked. He'd assumed that Arcturus had offered to sip from her instead, but he wasn't sure how Elsanine would feel about that.

He saw Chase exchange a look with Elliott. "Best ask him," Chase eventually said. "If he wants you to know, he'll tell you."

"Oh." More secrets. Sebastian sagged a little against Elliott. "Can we go in? It's chilly out here."

***

The club was indeed rammed, as Chase had promised. Sebastian had to _excuse me_ and _sorry, could I just...?_ his way through the press of people, with Elliott holding his hand and moving ahead of him. The crowd parted for Elliott, as it instinctively did for all vampires, but it closed again immediately after him, leaving Sebastian to shove and apologise his way through.

The music that pounded through the club reverberated in Sebastian's chest, low and bass-heavy with a deep trance rhythm, and - over the throng of people - he could just about make out behind the decks a tall young guy with silver hair falling over one eye. People were dancing right up to the edge of the low stage, and he was egging them on, winking and blowing kisses at them. Like all the vampires he was breathtaking to look at, clearly brought to the Eternal Night in the full flush of youth and beauty. This, then, must be Immanuil. The name suited him; he looked almost wickedly angelic.

And then, suddenly and quite distinctly, Sebastian heard his own name being whispered. He looked around wildly, almost tripping over his own feet as Elliott continued to move through the crowd, pulling him along.

_Sebastian._

How could he be hearing a whisper above the noise of the club? Soft and sibilant, the voice that uttered his name seemed to be worming its way _into his head_ , and he continued to glance around nervously. He didn't like this. Not one bit.

_Sebaaaasssssstiaaaaaan._

The hand pulling him along paused, but he continued moving, eventually slamming into Elliott's back. He whimpered as Elliott's hand tightened around his and the crowd ebbed and flowed around them. They were an island in a turbulent stream of bodies, and somewhere a snake was hissing his name.

Elliott stood, stock still in front of him. Sebastian buried his face in his master's shoulder.

"Get me out of here," he begged, softly. "Please."

_Sssssebastiannnnn._

He felt Elliott's comforting arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. Staring at the ground, not daring to look up, Sebastian huddled close, clutching his laptop to his chest with his free hand and hoping that the crowd wouldn't accidentally pull his backpack off his shoulder. It was dangerously close to sliding off anyway, but he didn't dare move to try and hitch it back up again.

**"Move."**

It was Elliott's voice, soft and low, but injected with the command that all vampires were capable of. Sebastian had only heard him use it a couple of times before now, and he could feel the press of people around him instinctively moving away, creating a small breathing space.

Slowly, Elliott led him through the crowd, that arm still around him. The throng of clubbers parted like a wave around them - unaware that they were obeying a hidden command - and closed again behind them; a human wake that rippled and showed where they were to anyone watching.

_Sebaaaaast—_

The sound was cut off. _All_ sound was cut off. Sebastian's head jerked up as even the music stopped. Everyone was still dancing and laughing around them, as if a sudden silence hadn't descended upon the club...

...and then he realised that it hadn't. He could still _feel_ the music. He just couldn't _hear_ it. He couldn't hear _anything!_ Bewildered, he stumbled along beside Elliott, his fear mounting, until they finally reached the door to the vampires' private quarters. Elliott reached for the handle, but the door swung open of its own accord.

Sebastian whimpered again, shivering as Elliott hesitated. Then, slowly, the sounds of the club began to filter back into Sebastian's head as Valois stood in front of them in the open doorway and held out a hand to him.

"Come with me," he murmured. "Both of you."


	12. The Claim

Elliott hustled Sebastian through the door and into Valois's private quarters, waiting while Valois closed the door and gently took the laptop from Sebastian's white-knuckled fingers, putting it down on his desk. The backpack followed - rested carefully on the floor - and finally Valois slid a finger beneath Sebastian's chin, raising his face.

"What did you hear?" he asked, searching those frightened eyes.

"Someone whispering my name, over and over," Sebastian managed, his voice little more than a whisper itself. "And then nothing. I went deaf!"

"The deafness was my doing, and I apologise for the fright that it must have given you." Valois let him go with a caress of his hair. "I knew that _someone_ had got through to you, and it was the fastest way to shut that down. Did you recognise the voice?"

Sebastian shook his head, sliding both arms around Elliott's waist and burying his face in Elliott's neck. "It was just a whisper."

Watching Valois over the top of Sebastian's head, Elliott simply held his pet close. Having reassured Sebastian that the Rose was the safest place for them to be, this was _not_ the kind of welcome he wanted. Of course he'd expected things to have changed in the seventy-five years he had been away, but scratching below the surface it appeared that they had not changed for the better.

"Was there anything distinctive about it at all?" Valois persisted. "Help me out here, Sebastian. If someone has a mind to torment you, I will damn well make sure they stop, but I cannot do so unless I am absolutely sure of who I'm dealing with."

Sebastian turned his head to look at Valois, then shook it again. "I'm sorry. All I can say is that it was a whisper. It drew my name out a bit each time, but that was all."

Valois's gaze met Elliott's for a moment, then it drifted past him, looking right through him: a thousand-yard stare that saw into pasts and futures.

Ah.

Elliott knew that look. Over the years he had spent close to his sire, he had learned about almost all of Valois's gifts. That distant look was one of his rarer gifts, and it rarely boded well. From the stricken expression that Valois swiftly covered, this time it _really_ didn't bode well.

"Sebastian..." Valois stepped closer. "Will you permit me to touch your mind and hear the whisper for myself?"

Sebastian hesitated, looking up at Elliott for guidance.

"It will not hurt," Elliott reassured him. "You won't feel a thing, but he'll need you close to him in order to do it."

"I thought you could read minds without touching people?" Sebastian looked back at Valois, evidently curious at this new revelation.

Valois smiled. "I can, but in order to access memories directly, I need contact. If you are content to leave Elliott's arms for a few minutes, then I will be able to hear that whisper for myself. And no, you will not need to relive it in order for me to hear it."

There was a long pause as Sebastian clearly weighed this up, then finally pulled away from Elliott's embrace. He approached Valois hesitantly, and Elliott could see in every movement that he was unsure of how much contact the Eigne needed. This reticence was completely out of character for Sebastian; he had clearly been incredibly unsettled by what had happened. Whatever - _whoever_ \- had spooked the boy out there in the club, if Valois didn't get to them first, Elliott would damn well crush them like a bug.

Valois held out his arms with a gentle smile, and Sebastian eventually trusted him enough to walk into them. They folded around him, one hand sliding into his hair, the other arm around his waist, holding him steady as Valois closed his eyes. And there, Elliott noted, Sebastian's unease was still evident, as he quietly slipped both arms around Valois's waist. He still needed someone to hold onto.

After a few minutes of silence Valois opened his eyes. Once again they held that thousand-yard stare as he looked down - and through - Sebastian. And, once again, he looked shaken by what he saw.

"Who was it?" Elliott growled. "By Lilith, I'll send them over for scaring him like that."

Valois snapped back to the present moment, locking eyes with Elliott. 

"It isn't him that they want," he murmured. "But they will use him to reach their true target."

 _He means me_ , Elliott thought. _Oh Lilith, will I never find a place to rest?_

"Then we cannot stay here," he said. "I will not have him used as a pawn. This place has changed since I left. The poison runs deeper than it ever did before."

"With my protection, you will both be safe," Valois countered. "None would dare challenge me. Just... trust me." His voice softened. "Please, Elliott. I cannot lose you a second time..."

As if Elliott didn't feel guilty enough at bringing Sebastian back to this vipers' nest, now his sire was laying on the guilt, too!

"And how do you plan to protect us both?"

He watched as Valois's fingers moved softly in Sebastian's hair, soothing the boy. Sebastian seemed perfectly relaxed where he was, and - surprisingly - Elliott realised that he didn't feel even remotely jealous to see his pet in Valois's arms.

"The Claim," Valois murmured.

Elliott stared at him. "Are you out of your mind? If you Claim him, I lose him. What makes you think I'd agree to that?"

"You won't lose him if I Claim you both."

"Your family were right. You _are_ mad!" Elliott growled. "I respect you as my sire, but I will not enter into that kind of slavish relationship with you. I'll take Sebastian away from here and we'll make our own way, find our own safety."

He stepped forward, one hand reached out to pull Sebastian away from Valois, but the hand that was in Sebastian's hair suddenly gripped Elliott's chin firmly, and his body froze in place.

 _You do not see what I see,_ Valois's voice hissed in his mind. _I see him as I saw Emilia: a lifeless doll, slumped on the floor. And YOU..._ The mindvoice became a mournful plea. _I see the black mists of oblivion waiting behind you, crawling ever closer to touch you even now. Elliott, my darling, I beg you. You cannot run from this. It is not some silly little vampire trick from someone else in this coven to get at Sebastian, or even at you. It is far more serious than that, and far more powerful than even I can discern at this moment._

If Valois hadn't used one word - a word that he was always so pedantic about - then Elliott would have snarled and told him where to get off. But he'd said 'coven' instead of 'nest'. Small and insignificant though that word choice may have been, it spoke volumes for how rattled Valois was, and that gave Elliott pause.

"It isn't me that they want," he whispered.

Valois shook his head. "No. It is not you. Nor is it him."

Elliott looked down at Sebastian, now contentedly dozing against Valois's body, even while standing up. He was braced there, both arms around Valois's waist, a faint smile gracing his lips. He looked comfortable and just... right. Exactly the same way that Elliott had felt all those years ago.

The Claim. It was such an intimate and personal thing, something that few vampires entered into unless they truly meant it. It would bind the three of them so closely together that Valois's powerful presence truly would protect both Elliott and Sebastian, but at what cost?

Elliott sighed. Status and pride. That was all. To be a Claimed vampire just meant a loss of status, and he had once been Lieutenant of this place. A Claimed vampire was assumed to be the lover of the one who had Claimed them, but the inference was that they were more like a concubine than a lover: a lesser, lower position. An honoured position, if the Claiming vampire was as powerful as Valois was, but nonetheless it would be a humiliating loss of status for Elliott.

But it would keep Sebastian safe. And he would do _anything_ to ensure that.

He sighed again.

"Very well," he whispered. "I consent to your Claim."


	13. Storms

"Sebastian."

Oh no. Not that voice again. Sebastian whimpered, turning his face away from the sound of that soft whisper of his name. Someone was holding him, and he tried to burrow closer into the warmth of their embrace.

"Sebastian, dear heart, wake and look at me."

Dear heart? That wasn't what the voice had said before. That sounded more like...

"Elliott?"

He cracked open one eye and squinted upward. There, smiling down at him, was indeed Elliott. But if Elliott was standing beside him, who the hell was holding him?

"I have you," Valois murmured. "You are perfectly safe."

Sebastian sagged. "Safe? What happened?" he mumbled. "I remember us arriving here, and some woman freaking out at the bouncers, then someone whispering my name." He looked up at Valois. "Did you find out who it was? Have they gone now?"

He saw Valois glance at Elliott, who palmed a hand to Sebastian's cheek. 

"No, we don't know who it was," Elliott said softly. "But we need to do something now to ensure that we are both safe from any further attacks. I need you to trust me, my dear one. Will you do that?"

Sebastian frowned. "Of course. I've always trusted you. What the...? You're both being really fucking serious here, and it's kinda scary."

Elliott was looking at him intently, in a way that Sebastian had never seen before. Like... he was struggling to find the words for what he wanted to say. Sebastian looked from him to Valois and then back again.

"Okay, whatever it is, will one of you just spit it out?"

There was a moment more of awkward silence, and then Valois finally broke it.

"I need to claim you both as my own," he murmured. "By doing this, you will be fully under my protection and nobody will dare to harm either of you, or even attempt it. Elliott hesitates to tell you this because of what it entails and because of how our fellow sanguisuges will regard him after it happens."

Sebastian watched Elliott closely as Valois spoke, noting the way that he winced at those closing words.

"How will they regard him?" he asked softly.

"As Valois's whore," Elliott muttered, clearly not able to look either of them in the face.

"Darling, that is _not_ how they will see you," Valois countered. "It is an _honoured_ position, not a demeaning one."

Sebastian looked up at him. "And will he actually _be_ your whore?"

"Of course not! At worst the position is regarded in a similar manner to that of a favoured lover. But, unless both of you were willing to enter into that kind of relationship, I would not press the matter. This is purely for your protection, not for my own gain or pleasure."

Sebastian was quiet for a few minutes, mulling this over. Had Elliott already agreed to this? He seemed incredibly unhappy about it, and that suggested that there was probably no other way around the issue.

"I don't want to do anything that will upset my master," he whispered. "I mean, thanks for the offer, Valois. I'm grateful that you want to protect me when you barely even know me, but Elliott's not happy about it. I can tell that just from looking at him."

At last, Elliott looked up, gazing at him with something approaching wonder in his eyes. "Blessed boy," he murmured. "You would protect me even at cost to yourself. I chose well when I chose you, but then I already knew that." He bent to ghost a kiss over Sebastian's lips, adding softly, "I have already agreed to Valois's claim. You are worth the loss of status that I will incur. You are _more_ than worth it. I am a proud man and it is only my pride that rails against it. I know what is the better option, and it is to put ourselves under Valois's protection."

Sebastian yearned up into that kiss, only sinking back when Elliott straightened again. He looked up at Valois, who was still holding him.

"Okay then. If Elliott's already agreed and it's the smartest thing to do, then I'll agree as well. What's this claim thing all about then?"

***

Fifteen minutes later, Sebastian was lounged across Valois's lap on an elegant and comfortable chaise in Valois's bedroom. He'd had a few minutes to look around and appreciate the beauty of his surroundings before Valois had gently guided him down, so he'd barely had time to feel nervous. Elliott crouched beside them, one comforting hand on Sebastian's shoulder, and Gunther sat on the floor nearby.

"You will be the most affected by this, dear boy," Valois murmured. "Your blood will sustain the claim, and I must take more than you are accustomed to giving. That is why Gunther is here: he will care for you afterwards."

"Can't Elliott do that?" Sebastian asked, adding a hasty, "No offence, Gunther."

Gunther just smiled and shook his head to show that he wasn't in the least offended. "I'm just here to do whatever my master wishes me to."

"Elliott will be too busy to take care of you," Valois said softly. "After I have claimed you, I must claim him, and that will take... several hours."

" _Hours?!_ " Sebastian stared up at him. "What the hell are you going to do?!"

Valois chuckled. "Nothing salacious, I assure you. A claim between two vampires is a bonding experience, and it involves multiple exchanges of blood, that is all. And, at the end of it, we shall share my casket for a single daysleep."

Sebastian felt his heart sink a little. "I gotta sleep alone?"

"It will be a _day_ sleep," Elliott reminded him gently. "My darling, you will be very drowsy for much of that time, and in the moments when you are awake, Gunther will take care of you, bring you food and drink, and - if you feel lonely - he will be there to hold you."

"I give great cuddles," Gunther said, and Sebastian smiled at that.

"Okay then," he said. "I guess I'm ready to start."

"I promise to be as gentle as I can," Valois murmured, nodding faintly to Elliott.

Sebastian felt Elliott's long fingers carefully unbuttoning his shirt and pulling the fabric aside to expose not only his throat but also his chest. Those fingers then slid into his hair, cradling his head tenderly, pushing it back to bare the vulnerable expanse of his neck.

Sebastian swallowed nervously. He felt something cool and metallic tickling slowly up his throat and coming to rest against his jugular. After a second of confusion he realised that it was Valois's spiked thumb-ring. Oh god, it was about to happen now...

"Look at me," Valois whispered, and he turned his gaze to meet those freakish ruby eyes.

A moment later, all of his nerves had flown and all he felt was a longing to simply _belong_. He heard murmured words - _too nervous ... thrall ... safest ... yes_ \- and then his throat began to blaze with heat and pressure. 

His jaw fell open on a faint gasp as he felt the hand in his hair tightening its grip, holding him steady. Oh god... oh god... he'd never experienced anything like _this_ before, not even with Elliott. Strangely unfrightened, he felt himself go limp in the arms that held him so tenderly. The pull along his veins was like the caress of a lover, and he sighed into it, surrendering utterly.

And then he felt himself being lifted, cradled against another warm body as he was carried away. Something soft was beneath him, gentle hands stripped him and pulled cool sheets over him. He turned toward those tender hands with a smile as they stroked his hair back from his hot and clammy forehead.

***

Gunther looked down at the boy in his bed, a curious mixture of worry and protectiveness warring inside him. For years he'd had Valois to himself, and now he had to share. Sebastian didn't cause him any concern at all; he knew that Valois wouldn't dream of touching Elliott's pet. But Elliott...

Gunther was no fool. He'd heard the stories of how close Elliott had been to his sire before he walked out of the Rose. Valois was insanely protective of his fledglings, and he'd been devastated when Elliott left. Their relationship had gone far beyond what was usual for fledges and their sires. For most vampires, that affinity was one of guardianship and protectiveness. Many joked that they were _in loco parentis_ for their fledglings, and indeed Valois had referred to Elliott as his son on occasion. But - just as with vampire politics - there was much more to that specific relationship than fierce protectiveness that bordered on parental. 'Complicated' didn't even begin to cover it.

He sighed. Valois was the placid ocean which had borne him along for many years, but now he could feel the swell of fractious waves beneath him as the storm that was Elliott Lucan blew into his safe harbour.

"You poor boy," he whispered, as he caressed Sebastian's cheek. "You fell in love with a hurricane. I just hope we all come out safely on the other side."


	14. Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a visual of Valois's apartments, [click here](https://valoisfulcanelli.tumblr.com/post/160019751399/valoiss-private-quarters-in-the-rose-a-little).

Somewhere back in the haze of memory, Sebastian vaguely recalled being gently woken several times. The first time, he'd cracked open drowsy eyes to see Gunther smiling down at him and urging him to drink something cold and slightly sweet. With Gunther's tender hand supporting his head, he'd barely had the strength to do as he was asked, before slipping back into the exhaustion of sleep.

The second time, he'd been a bit more awake and able to prop himself up as Gunther sat beside him with a plate of fresh soft fruit. One by one, he'd managed half a dozen slices of peach and nectarine, followed by more of that cool, refreshing drink, before he'd lain back down again and drifted once more.

The third time, he'd woken of his own accord and Gunther had come over to him on hearing him moving. This time there had been more of a wait for some food, as Gunther made his way to the kitchen and came back with a plateful of breakfast, which - with a little help - Sebastian had all but devoured.

As he'd eaten - still in bed, but now sitting up properly - Sebastian had glanced around Valois's bedroom. It was more lavishly decorated than the study, with exquisite paintings hung on the walls, exotic rugs scattered across the polished bare wood floor, and velvet-upholstered chairs and chaises, gilded dressers and cabinets, and a large glass-fronted bookcase dotted randomly around the walls. In the corner stood an ornate easel, upon which rested a partially-complete landscape painting that Gunther had been working on when Sebastian had awoken.

Oh, and then there was the large grey stone sarcophagus that took up fully one corner of the room. Delicate fleurs-de-lys were carved into the sides and a stone cross rested - slightly elevated - upon the top. On the wall behind it hung a small, very old (and probably priceless) gold-framed icon of the Madonna and Child.

Sebastian had expected a coffin rather than this huge thing, but then he supposed whatever Valois slept in had to be big enough for two people, since Gunther had said he slept with his master. He shuddered at the thought of sleeping in _that_ , though, and privately thanked whatever gods might be listening that Elliott preferred sleeping in a bed.

"Yes," Gunther said softly, clearly seeing where his gaze had strayed. "They're still in there."

"How long have I been asleep?" Sebastian mumbled around a mouthful of bacon, returning his attention to his meal.

"About fifteen hours." Gunther sat back against the pillows next to him. "It's just after 5pm, so they'll be awake soon."

"Fift--!" Sebastian stared at him.

Gunther smiled. "Valois warned me it might take even longer than that. He took a _lot_ from you." He nudged Sebastian's shoulder. "You're a tough little fucker, you know that?"

Sebastian blinked, not exactly expecting _that_ kind of language from a professor of antiquities, then he laughed. 

"I guess I am."

"Well..." Gunther stretched and then settled down again. "You'll need to be, around here. This place is mostly okay, but if you thought a school full of kids could be bad, you haven't seen _anything_ compared to a vampire coven. It's a mixture of pettiness, politics, vanity, and lust."

He turned to look down at Sebastian, who was watching him warily.

"No," he murmured. "I'm not trying to put you off. You've got Elliott and Valois watching over you, so you'll be fine. I'm just giving you a bit of a heads-up, if you like, that this place - once you're fully a part of it - is like nothing you've ever experienced before. There are lots of little rules that are entirely unspoken but nonetheless understood."

"Like...?" Sebastian prompted.

"Well, pets are exactly that to vampires. Some of them will treat you as such, even though you belong to another vampire. Don't be surprised to find yourself touched as if you're a dog or a cat." Gunther cast a sidelong glance at him. "And no, I'm not winding you up. You're young and pretty, so expect them to stroke your hair and stare at you in a way that will probably make you feel a bit... uncomfortable. Y'see, while they _know_ they can't have you, because of Elliott, and especially because of Valois's claim, they still _want_ you."

The mouthful of sausage that Sebastian was chewing suddenly tasted like ash. "You're not exactly making me feel very confident here," he mumbled.

"But that's the thing." Gunther turned to face him, fixing all his attention on him. "You've got to brass it out. Fake it. You can be shitting yourself inside, but you just stare right back at them."

Shaken at this unexpected intensity, Sebastian dropped his fork on the bed. "Why are you telling me this?"

Instantly, Gunther's face softened. "Because," he said gently, "you're young and vulnerable, and I want you to be prepared for life here. Elsanine's already shown you where they all sleep, and no doubt he's warned you not to go down there alone?"

Sebastian nodded.

"Living here," Gunther continued, "is like moving into any new environment. The people around you have their own clicques, their own habits and customs, their own ways of getting through the day. Or, in their case, the night." He smiled. "Vampires get bored easily, especially those that are still young, or that were brought to the Eternal Night in their youth. They haven't learned stillness, or patience. In a way, they're like toddlers: endlessly curious and getting into everything they can. If you can see them in that light, you're better prepared to handle how they behave around you."

"Do they touch you like that?"

"One or two of them do, yeah. Not many, though. I'm too old for most of them. They're all about youth and beauty. That's what attracts them."

"Doesn't Valois stop them, though? The ones who _do_ touch you?"

Gunther chuckled. "No, and here's another thing you're about to learn about vampires. The more their pet is wanted, the higher they feel their status is, regardless of how high it _actually_ is. It all ties into that vanity thing. It's kind of like 'Look at this gorgeous thing that I own; it's all mine and you can't have it', and the more that others want that gorgeous thing, the better its owner feels. Valois is just as susceptible to that notion as any other vampire."

"That's just so... fucking _high school!_ " Sebastian laughed. "Who's got the latest phones and stuff."

"Exactly." Gunther folded his hands behind his head and grinned. "I'll give you an example of how daft that thinking is: if Arcturus were to challenge Valois for leadership of the coven, most of the other vampires would defend Valois's right to lead, but _only_ because of his age. Inside, though, they would all think that - because Arcturus has the prettiest pet, and let's face it, Elsanine is the most beautiful human being you've ever come across - his status is higher than Valois's, because Valois's pet isn't young and beautiful and desireable."

Sebastian frowned. "You're not exactly an ugly old man, y'know."

Gunther laughed. "Oh, I know. I'm just thinking like vampires do. A vampire wants a pretty boy or girl who is in their early twenties. I guess you could liken it to having a trophy wife. They actually don't even care if the pet is in their early teens, but Valois is strict about age limits. If the mortal isn't old enough to vote in their own world, they're not old enough to make the decision to become a vampire's pet. As a nightclub, the Rose has an age limit for entry, right? If a patron looks young, but can produce ID that shows them to be old enough, they can get in. Same thing for being a pet."

Sebastian retrieved his fork from the bedcovers (which, miraculously, it hadn't stained) and finished the last mouthfuls of his breakfast.

"I'd have thought Valois would be above all that petty stuff," he said, as Gunther took the empty plate and set it down on the nightstand.

"Oh, he is. Mostly." Gunther settled back on the bed again. "Most of the vampires here are scared of him in some way or another. Either because of his age or because he could kick them out if he decided to. They like it here, and so they're prepared to tolerate his rules." He sighed, then smiled. "But, like all vampires, he's vain, and his vanity swells a bit every time someone shows they want his pet. Mind you--" Suddenly distracted, he started picking at a thread on the bedcovers, "--after that happens he can be... quite possessive."

Sebastian grinned at the faint hint of colour that infused Gunther's cheekbones at those words.

"Well, if he's anything like Elliott when _he_ gets possessive..."

Gunther glanced at him, raised both eyebrows, then chuckled. "Nice to feel wanted, isn't it?"

"Oh yeah. Hell yeah."

"How're you feeling now?"

Momentarily thrown by that question, Sebastian took a second to self-assess. "Uh, I feel mostly okay. Still weak and a bit shaky. Sorta shivering a little. And anxious. Elsanine told me that's something that happens when you lose a lot of blood."

"Yeah, it is. A hug will help, though. C'mere." Gunther held his arms open, a welcome smile on his face.

Unhesitatingly, Sebastian shifted across the bed and into Gunther's embrace. Gunther's arms tightened around him in the warmth and affection of a hug that spoke volumes to Sebastian's unsettled soul, and Sebastian - in turn - let both of his arms wrap around Gunther's waist, while he buried his face in the soft tweed of Gunther's waistcoat.

"You were right," he mumbled against the fabric. "You give great cuddles."

"That's because I only give them to people I care about," Gunther whispered. "And I really mean them when I give them."

Slowly, Sebastian relaxed until he was utterly limp in Gunther's arms. The shivering had stopped, and his anxiety had flown, and he just felt calm and at peace.

"Is this how you feel when you're at Valois's feet?" he murmured.

"Yes," came the simple reply. "Serenity. It's a nice place to be, isn't it?"

Mutely, Sebastian nodded. He'd never have the patience to sit still for hours like Gunther apparently did, but now he could understand what Gunther got out of it. There was still all that anxiety-inducing stuff in the back of his mind, about the vampires touching him and nobody stopping it, but somehow it didn't matter right now.

"Will you promise me something?"

"I'll try to, sure. What is it?"

"Can I have a hug like this whenever I need one?"

Gunther laughed softly. "Of course you can. I'm pretty good at knowing when hugs are needed, but if I don't spot it, just ask, okay?"

Sebastian nodded. "Thanks."

They sat together for maybe half an hour, cuddled close like that. At one point, Gunther stretched out an arm to flick on the bedside lamp, but otherwise he didn't let go of Sebastian.

What finally moved them was the hollow scraping sound of stone on stone, and Sebastian turned to look as the sarcophagus lid slowly inched sideways. He felt Gunther press a kiss to his temple and heard him whisper, "Now we get the embrace we truly yearn for."


	15. Marks

"Have you ever seen a vampire rise from their casket?" Gunther murmured, his gaze fixed on the slowly shifting sarcophagus lid.

Sebastian shook his head, aware that he was clinging a bit to Gunther, but for the life of him he was _not_ gonna let go, even though his fingers were probably digging in rather painfully to Gunther's side.

"It's kinda freaky," Gunther said, even more softly, "but don't be scared, okay?"

Sebastian opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He stared as the heavy stone lid perched impossibly on one edge of the sarcophagus, defying all the laws of physics. A moment later, two entwined bodies rose up slowly from the interior, still horizontal. Elliott was nestled against Valois, who held him close in a manner that made Sebastian feel... weird. Not exactly jealous, but... that was _his_ master nuzzled up to someone else!

They stopped moving for a moment, and then they began to tilt. Sebastian's jaw finally dropped open and he vaguely heard Gunther chuckle as Valois pivoted vertically onto the ball of one foot, which was resting against the end of the sarcophagus, until he stood upright on the very lip of the stone. His other foot was hooked around Elliott's ankle, and between that and both arms he had Elliott held tightly against his body. Both of them still had their eyes closed and there was a moment of stillness and silence before Valois's eyes snapped open.

Sebastian watched as Valois turned his head and pressed a fierce kiss to Elliott's cheek.

"You always did like to sleep late," Valois murmured, his voice rough from his long slumber. Feathering his fingers into Elliott's hair, he watched his fledgling intently until Elliott's eyes cracked open.

"Good evening," Valois said, finally breaking into a smile. 

"Mmf," was the not exactly coherent reply, and - despite his misgivings about seeing his master so intimately close to his sire - Sebastian giggled, drawing both vampires' attention over to him. Freakishly, they were both still balanced against each other, and Valois still stood elegantly on the ball of one foot, but after a moment he stepped down onto the floor, taking Elliott with him.

"When you can finally stand upright unaided, I shall let you go," he muttered. "By Lilith, you sleep heavily."

"Been a long time since I drank so much," Elliott mumbled, rubbing a hand across his face and shaking his head to clear it. Eventually he was steady enough to pull away from Valois's embrace, and finally turned his full attention onto Sebastian, who was watching him fondly.

Instantly, Elliott's face softened and he walked over to the bed, To Sebastian's surprise, he palmed a hand against Gunther's cheek and smiled down at him, his thumb gently stroking Gunther's skin.

"Thank you for taking such good care of him," he murmured.

"You're welcome," Gunther replied, returning that smile. He arched one eyebrow delicately. "He's still not recovered enough for you to feed, I'm afraid, but he's had a good breakfast and should be fine by the end of this evening."

Elliott nodded, turning his gaze onto Sebastian as Gunther gently extricated himself from Sebastian's grip and moved off the bed.

"My darling boy," Elliott murmured, finally sitting on the bed and holding out one arm. Instinctively, Sebastian snuggled against him, both arms wrapping around him tightly.

"I missed you," he whispered. "Is it all done now?"

"Yes, it's all done." Elliott's fingers were in his hair, stroking and soothing, caressing down to his cheek and then under his chin, raising his face for a kiss, which Sebastian gave with his heart on his lips.

It took a moment for Sebastian to realise what felt different.

"You're _warm_ ," he whispered, grasping Elliott's hand between his palms and staring down at it. "I mean... _really_ warm. Not just after-you've-fed-warm." Without thinking, he began to unbutton Elliott's shirt, to his master's amusement, shoving his hands inside the fabric and against Elliott's chest.

"You're _warm!_ " he said again, unable to believe it. Tears welled in his eyes. This was the only thing he'd ever wished for in his relationship with Elliott: that he could _feel_ warm, like a mortal. "Was that because of what happened? Will you stay like this?"

"While he's still claimed," Valois's voice reached them from the other side of the bed, "yes."

Sebastian looked across to where Valois was now laying Gunther down on the bed. He blinked. In the couple of minutes since Gunther had left him, his waistcoat and shirt had come off, and Sebastian's eyes widened at the sight of the tattoo that coiled its way across Gunther's shoulder, partway down his arm, and down to the base of his shoulderblade.

"Wow," he whispered, his gaze tracing the large stylised letter 'V' filled with and surrounded by Egyptian hieroglyphs and geometric patterns. The ink was entirely black and feather-delicate, and it was _totally_ unexpected... as was the single silver captive bead nipple piercing.

Yeah. Sebastian had never had a teacher who was _this_ fucking cool.

"Let's get that beautiful heart racing, shall we?" Valois murmured, as he laid himself down over Gunther and his hand drifted down to unbutton Gunther's pants.

Sebastian saw Gunther flick a brief, apprehensive glance across at him, but then Valois's other hand captured his chin, turning his head back for a deep and possessive kiss. And, from that moment, Gunther's attention was all for Valois.

It wasn't as if Sebastian could bloody _see_ anything, anyway. Valois's body was draped over Gunther's in such a way that his hand was hidden from view, but Gunther's face was still visible. His eyes were shut now, his lips parted, his breath hitching as Valois whispered and coaxed and stroked:

"That's it, mine. Listen to that pulse. So strong, so powerful. Calling out to me..."

Sebastian looked up at Elliott, who was watching quietly while still holding him close. His nostrils were slightly flared, and his gaze was fixed on Gunther's throat as it arched. Oh, Sebastian knew that look. Elliott was _thirsty_...

...and Sebastian couldn't give him what he needed. He still felt as weak as a kitten, and no matter how desperately he wanted to let his master feed from him, he knew it would be a bad idea.

He sighed and turned his attention back to the near-pornographic scene right next to them on the other side of the bed. He'd not expected anything like this, and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. Right now, he felt peculiar: half-embarrassed for Gunther, and half-turned on. It was as if he'd been pulled into a polyamorous relationsh--

Oh.

He swallowed nervously. Was _that_ part of this Claim thing? Something that neither Gunther nor Valois had thought to mention to him before he'd agreed to it? Did that mean... he was going to be shared? That he would have to share Elliott?

Oy fucking vey. _More_ things for him to feel unsure about. But then, he'd already been profoundly close to Valois in letting him feed from him. There was nothing more intimate to a vampire than nuzzling a pet's neck - even if it wasn't their own pet - and sipping from them. And Sebastian had felt completely at home there in Valois's lap, with Elliott caressing his hair and being a part of that moment. Maybe... it wouldn't be so bad after all?

Gunther gave a soft gasp, and Valois's free hand moved up to clasp his throat, the thumb ring pressing hard. Bright droplets bloomed around the silver spike before Valois sealed his lips over the puncture wound, and Gunther uttered a low, raw moan of pleasure.

Sebastian watched as Valois pulled his hand away from Gunther's throat, letting his fingertips trail down his tattooed bicep until it reached his elbow. There, it clasped gently, then stretched Gunther's arm out - wrist-up - towards Elliott.

An offering.

Elliott reached out, clasping Gunther's wrist in his hand. Arching over Sebastian's body, he bent his head and bared his fangs...

Sebastian watched. He'd never seen Elliott feed before, mainly because he couldn't shove his own eyes out on stalks or anything ridiculous like that. And he'd never had the presence of mind to ask Elliott if he could film it on his phone. Now that he could see it happening right in front of him, he was insanely curious. Elliott only used one fang, piercing the fragile skin easily and gently, cradling Gunther's wrist as he sealed his mouth around the wound and drank. His other hand remained in Sebastian's hair, caressing and soothing.

Sebastian loved him so much for that. Even in the middle of slaking his thirst with someone else's offered pet, Elliott was still _his_. Sebastian nuzzled his face against Elliott's shoulder, wrapping around him and closing his eyes. This was all getting a bit too emotional and involved for him, weak as he still was.

He drifted for a few minutes, as he so often did when Elliott stroked his hair, and when he finally opened his eyes again Elliott was done. Gunther lay on the bed with Valois now kissing him. He looked drowsy and languid, returning Valois's kisses tenderly, both arms wrapped around his master.

"Your tattoos are beautiful," Sebastian whispered, watching as they seemed to come alive against Gunther's lightly-tanned skin as he clung to Valois, who slowly pulled away and smiled down at him.

"As is all of him," Valois murmured. "Thank you, mine, for your indulgence."

Gunther returned his smile, still coming down from the dual high of an orgasm and having two vampires feeding from him.

"Well we're a family, right?" he whispered, then laughed softly. "In that weird, kinky way vampires have of defining family, anyway."

"Kinky?" Valois arched an eyebrow, casting a wicked glance across at Sebastian and Elliott. "Hush now. Let's not scare them both off by revealing _everything_..."

Sebastian's eyes widened as he stared at them. What the--?!

And then Valois laughed, his salacious expression dissolving into pure mirth and an infectious giggle as Gunther joined him. Sebastian looked from them to Elliott, seeing that his own master was trying his damndest not to laugh, too. 

Sebastian sighed, rolling his eyes. "I hate you all. Officially."


End file.
